What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger
by emilieparrilla
Summary: Running. Always running. Morgana's life has always been tough but there is one thing that always keeps her going – love. Love is strength. Love is weakness. Love is all she has. ArMor. Rated T for violence.
1. Betrothed

**Chapter One – Betrothed**

Morgana sat with her hands resting on the silk skirts of her blue dress as the horse-drawn carriage was pulled through foreign territory. But it wouldn't be unknown for long. Oh no, the kingdom of Essetir was to be her home now. She was betrothed to King Lot.

As she stared forlornly out of the small gap in the carriage, Uther placed his hand over Morgana's own. Quickly, she snatched it away and continued looking out of the gap, refusing to meet Uther's eyes. It was entirely his fault that she was leaving everything and everyone she knew to go and marry some old king whom she'd never met before. All she knew was what was rumoured. And the rumours were that Lot was a hostile man who ruled his kingdom with an iron-fist and took being criticised badly; very badly.

The only reason she was marrying a man old enough to be her father, was because Lot was threatening war and Uther decided to sacrifice her for the sake of his kingdom. He was marrying her off to seal an alliance.

When she'd found out, Morgana had cried and screamed and begged. She'd tried to run away from Camelot but been brought back by the knights and consequently been confined to her chambers for two weeks. She hadn't minded in the slightest. At least she didn't have to look at Uther with the exception of the twice he had come seeking an apology; and receive none. She loathed Uther now. This was his fault. He cared more for his kingdom that for her. He'd broken the promise to her father to keep her safe and well. She loathed him; and that would never change.

Suddenly, the carriage came to a halt. Uther offered his hand to help her down, but she pointedly refused and stepped down herself. The courtyard was drab and unoccupied. Nobody wandered around as they did in Camelot. The only people who passed her were servants who scuttled to and fro, heads down and silent. The atmosphere was chilling and awkward. It was not a good impression of the place where she was to live her life.

Morgana thought about pleading with Uther but she decided against it. She would not appear weak. Instead, she crossed her arms against her chest in an act of defiance.

Gracefully, she walked down the bitter cold corridors, encircled by guards. Uther stood by her side but did not try to reach out to her. Finally, he'd got the message.

Eventually, they reached the throne room. Sitting in an ornate throne, was a man slightly younger than Uther. He was clothed from head-to-toe in black leather with the exception of a heavy fur coat. Atop his dark, slightly-greying hair sat an ornate crown. His face looked like it was permanently set in a scowl, judging by the lines.

Uther nudged her and she stepped forward and curtsied.

"Your majesty," said Morgana, straightening herself.

"My Lady Morgana, King Uther," said King Lot, flashing a very false smile.

"It's a pleasure to seal our peace through this linking," said Uther "Morgana is a most desirable bride."

"I'm sure she is," continued King Lot with a leer which made Morgana feel deeply uncomfortable "Now, you will be given guest accommodation until we are official wed, but we shall dine together each day."

Morgana did not like his attitude at all. She was sure to clash with him. In a last ditch attempt, she looked over at Uther in a pleading manner but instead he placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Be good now, Morgana," he told her, as if he was talking to a small child.

And then he was gone, leaving her alone with her husband-to-be.


	2. A Living Nightmare

**2) A Living Nightmare**

**A/N**** – This chapter contains violence, so if you don't like it, don't read it. **

**Please read + review. Any suggestions for future chapters or things you would like to see. **

**Enjoy …**

"But their village is being attacked," said Morgana, heatedly to her husband.

"Morgana, you have no authority here. You will not question my decisions any further," said Lot in reply.

"We can't stand by and watch them die. You're their king," persisted Morgana, and then added, "And I'm their queen."

"Morgana, this is your one and only warning," threatened Lot, angry that a _woman_ was questioning him.

"If you won't help them; then I will," concluded Morgana.

The next thing she felt was a stinging sensation in her left cheek. Her husband had just slapped her. No-one had ever lifted a hand to her before.

"What the hell are you doing?" asked Morgana, shocked.

"You might have got away with it in Camelot; but if you ever cross me in any way, you will pay severely," warned Lot.

"I did not get away with it in Camelot. It's just that in Camelot, men are chivalrous, they don't hit woman," spat Morgana, furiously.

Then, she turned on her heel and stalked off. As soon as she was in the gardens, she brought a hand to her cheek. It was going to leave a bruise. How dare King Lot hit her? He might think it would silence her but if he tried it again she would have to retaliate.

For the remainder of the day, Morgana sat with her back against the oak tree, surveying the garden that she'd restored upon her arrival. She looked up and saw that it was nearing nightfall.

Closing her eyes, Morgana tried to imagine she was back in the safety of Camelot. This kingdom was dangerous and her husband was a tyrant, a worse tyrant than Uther. She despised her guardian but if offered, she would on a horse to Camelot in an instant.

She missed Gwen. She even missed Arthur. She missed the freedom. She missed the people. She missed the atmosphere. But there was no going back. This was her new life; like it or not.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't even notice as the sky gradually turned to black velvet and specks of silver appeared. It was then she realised, Lot would be waiting for her; probably to indulge in activities she had no desire to take part in.

Against her better judgement, Morgana stayed where she was. She knew the king would be furious, but her stubbornness won over in the end. Even the piercing wind biting at her bare skin didn't sway her from her decision.

Morgana must have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing she knew was waking up to a brightening sky.

Quickly, she stood up and brushed the grass off her dress. She then walked swiftly to the castle. Taking the steps two at a time, Morgana arrived in the chambers she shared with Lot.

"And where have you been?" he asked, coldly.

"I fell asleep," replied Morgana, succeeding in acting brave.

"Oh, and you thought it was alright to wander off without my permission," continued Lot.

"Going to the gardens is hardly wandering off," responded Morgana, her tone ever-so-slightly mocking.

"You're going to learn respect, one way or another," warned Lot, bitterly.

"I give respect to those who are worthy of respect. You swore to protect those within your kingdom and now you turn your back on a village in need. That's hardly deserving of respect," Morgana told him.

Within a minute, Lot had grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head backwards.

"Who do you think you are; treating me like this?" asked Morgana, angrily.

"Still no respect, my dear," said Lot, patronisingly.

"Let me go," demanded Morgana.

"Certainly," replied Lot, a malicious grin on his face.

Seconds later, he released his grip on Morgana's hair and pushed her backwards. The force was so much that she crashed into the pillar. Her head cracked off the stone, causing a small split to appear on the back of her hair. She could feel the blood seeping out of it.

Regaining her senses after the collision, Morgana practically ran for the door. But Lot got a vice-like grip on her forearm and towed her back towards him. This time, Morgana struggled violently.

"Stop it," ordered Lot.

However, Morgana was past listening. She was frantically kicking out, trying to escape from his grasp. With her legs not able to land a kick, Morgana used her free arm. This time, her fist struck Lot's face.

"You're going to pay for that," he hissed.

The only thing that brought an end to Morgana's fierce struggles was when Lot twisted her arm up her back. She winced at the pain.

"Just get off me," yelled Morgana, weakened by the head wound and her spirited struggling.

"Not the answer I was looking for," said her husband.

Morgana stayed silent. If he wanted a game, he could play himself. He wasn't going to get another reaction. Maybe then he would give it up.

It seemed not. He suddenly kicked her legs and she fell forward, only to be held up by the arm which was still gripped tightly. Then, he started repeatedly started slapping her. Morgana cried out but he paid no attention.

Eventually, he stopped and let go of her arm before walking out of the chambers briskly, without a word. Morgana slumped onto the floor, aching all over.

There and then, she decided she would have to do something. This could not continue. She was too outspoken to such an easily annoyed man. She'd done things ten times worse than spending the night outside back in Camelot, and still never been hit. She would never cope here.


	3. Isolation

**3) Isolation**

"You miss her don't you?" Merlin said one morning, whilst serving Arthur breakfast.

"Miss who?" questioned Arthur, coming out of his daydream.

"Morgana," answered Merlin.

"Don't be so silly. Morgana's a queen. All of her dreams have come true; she finally gets to boss people around and not get punished for it," retorted Arthur.

"Ever since she left you have been moping about," said Merlin, matter-of-factly "You miss her."

"_Mer_lin," said Arthur, dragging out the first three letters "I do not miss Morgana."

"So why are you so defensive?" asked Merlin in amusement.

"Ok, fine. Yes, I do miss her. I've spent half my life with her. How can I not?" replied Arthur, grumpily.

"So why don't you write to her," suggested Merlin.

"She hasn't written to me," Arthur pointed out.

"You know how stubborn she is. Write to her first. Show an interest in her new life," continued Merlin.

"You know, Merlin, for the most lazy, incompetent manservant I've ever known, you're actually quite wise," said Arthur, in a much better mood.

"Did you just compliment me, sire?" asked Merlin, teasingly.

"Did you just address me properly?" questioned Arthur.

The two of them didn't answer each other's questions.

"Clean this up, will you, Merlin," ordered Arthur, giving Merlin a light punch on the shoulder.

"Of course, _dollop head_," answered Merlin, gathering dishes.

Arthur made a mental note to write the letter that night as he walked to the training grounds.

As Morgana sat in the dank, dark dungeons of Lot's castle, she was pondering over why Arthur hadn't written to her. True, she hadn't written to him, but she'd been far too busy with her current situation.

Since Lot's attack, she had spent the days in the gardens, ensuring she turned up to the more important council meetings and meals. But, however much she tried to bite her tongue and persevere, she couldn't; it was just against her nature to do so.

It had been two weeks of silence on both parts, but when Lot had yelled at her two days ago for being outside in the garden, yet again, she had instinctively yelled back. Soon, they were in a full-blown argument. Lot had slapped her twice and then she'd said he wasn't fit to rule the kingdom. That was how she'd winded up here; chained and chilled to the bone.

When he arrived back down that night, she stubbornly turned her head.

"Are you going to apologize, yet?" asked Lot.

"You're the one who should be apologizing," replied Morgana, slowly standing up to come face-to-face with her _husband_.

"I'm the king; you're only my mistress. I don't apologize," said Lot.

"Not anymore; you either keep me locked up or I'm returning to Camelot," declared Morgana.

"You will not speak to me like that. I am married to you now. Camelot is a distant memory for you now. You will never go back," spat Lot.

"I'll do what I like," retorted Morgana, glaring at him defiantly.

Despite her efforts, she shivered slightly. Lot smiled maliciously.

"It's very cold down here. Would you like some warm food, a warm bed and a warm … person?" he asked, leering at her.

"Believe me, I'd rather freeze," said Morgana, but the offer was tempting, so very tempting.

"Well, I thought you might say that. Therefore, I am giving you no choice in the matter. You will give me an heir or you will die," stated Lot.

"And start a war in the process. If you had me executed, Camelot's army will destroy you. After all, they are the mightiest army," mocked Morgana.

Swiftly, Lot backhanded her so hard that she was sent sprawling to the stone floor. The pain in her cheek was intense but she managed to pull herself into a sitting position.

"You're very fiery for a mistress. You would do well to keep your temper under control, because if you _ever_ insult me again, you will die, regardless of who you are," threatened Lot.

"I prefer to live dangerously," retorted Morgana.

Lot roared in anger and lunged for Morgana. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to brace herself for her death.

But instead of death, she felt a calloused hand in her matted hair. Lot yanked her up by the hair and then ordered the guards to unlock the shackles. The chains fell to the stone with a clunk and the cold air nipped at Morgana's wounds.

When she came to grips with the fact that she was not yet dead, Morgana struggled to get free. She spun around but Lot grabbed her arm as well and proceeded to drag her to their shared chambers.

Once there, Lot locked the door and dumped Morgana on the bed.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," said Lot, taking off his furs.

"We're not doing it all," replied Morgana, sitting up stubbornly.

"I take it this means the hard way, then," said Lot, shaking his head and pretending to look upset.

"No, I refuse," yelled Morgana, getting off the bed.

Lot turned around with a coil of rope in one hand. He swung it round a few times and then launched it at Morgana's wrists. The long length of rope combined with Lot's skill, wrapped around her wrists. He pulled her closer as she struggled and cried out vehemently.

When she was almost directly in front of him, she spat at him and started yelling insults. He just grinned and wrapped the remained of the rope around Morgana's wrists before tying it off. Now that her wrists were bound very securely, Morgana felt a whole lot more vulnerable.

Lot pushed her on to the bed and took his knife out. Carelessly, he tore her dress off of her until she was completely naked. She struggled and struggled with fierce intent. But the rope just chafed her already sore wrists. She screamed and shouted and cried for help, but no-one came. No longer was she in Camelot, when at a faint scream a guard or Arthur would come running to protect her. Here she was; helpless. And she didn't like it. She was completely powerless to do anything but endure what was to come.

She tried to sit up and managed to bump her leg up a bit so that it hurt Lot in the groin.

"You vicious bitch," he yelled, slapping her hard across her already bruised cheek.

Suddenly, her screams stopped when she saw Lot's face coming towards her own. Determinedly, she closed her mouth. This just made him smile more. He pinched her nose and unable to obtain any oxygen, she opened her mouth to gasp in air.

Lot placed his mouth over hers and started kissing her roughly. She tossed and turned her head frantically, but Lot was far stronger than her and the weight of him was tiring her out quicker than usual.

Then, Lot stuffed a dirty cloth into her mouth and she couldn't spit it out from her position. Her screams were now muffled to an extent that no-one a few meters away would hear them.

Then, he raped her.

When he finally stopped and got off her, Morgana was crying hysterically. Lot took the cloth from her mouth and unbound her wrists, throwing her the tattered remains of her dress before pulling on his own clothes and leaving, satisfied.

Morgana lay there for what seemed like hours before pulling on a clean dress and cloak. Then, she headed out to the solitude of her garden. She was going home … to Camelot.

"Why has she not replied yet, Merlin?" asked Arthur, a week after sending the letter to Morgana.

"I don't know," replied Merlin, honestly.

"Something's wrong. Even if she was in a bad mood with us she would reply. We're her friends. She would reply. Even if it was just to insult us," said Arthur.

"So what are you going to do?" asked Merlin.

"We're going to Lot's kingdom. I'm going to find out what's going on," explained Arthur.

"Are you sure that's wise, Arthur?" asked Merlin, worriedly "Your father will never alone it."

"Well, it's a good thing we're not telling him then, Merlin. Morgana might need us, and if not we can say we just paid them a friendly visit," continued Arthur.

"But…" Merlin trailed off as Arthur glared at him.

"Now, pack us both a bag of supplies and fetch two of the best horses from the stables," ordered Arthur "And meet me at the back door of the stables in an hour."

"Yes, sire," agreed Merlin.

An hour later, Arthur and Merlin rode out of the city at nightfall. They rode into the night towards Lot's kingdom. They were going to find out what was wrong.

At that same time, Morgana was saddling a horse in the stables of Lot's kingdom. She was going back to Camelot; to Arthur, to Gwen, to Merlin. She wasn't staying here. She was going away and never coming back.

**There you go. I hope you liked it. The rape scene was very sad but it had to be done to keep the story progressing. What's going to happen next? That's for me to know and you to wonder until the next update. Please, please, please review. If you do I will write a lot quicker. **


	4. Exposed

**4) Exposed**

**A/N – Thanks for everyone who has reviewed this story so far; and favourite/slash alerted it. I'm really grateful and it lets me know that you like this story so I am motivated to write more and faster.**

_**Story Point – By the way its shortly after the rape that Arthur and Merlin ride out to Esscetir and Morgana starts the ride to Camelot. Hope you enjoy this chapter. **_

Morgana spurred her horse on through the dark forest. She had to make ground before Lot caught on that she'd disappeared. It wasn't just herself she had to protect now. She brought her hand to her stomach protectively. It may be the product of her rape; but she swore to love it and protect it; whatever the cost.

She kept going until her old horse was about to collapse. She'd stopped by a small stream and grass, so she tethered the exhausted horse to a tree and allowed it to drink and munch on the grass.

Morgana herself didn't eat anything, just took some water. The day before she had had her first bout of morning sickness; and she'd panicked. Without needing confirmation, she knew she was pregnant. She'd seen enough expecting women to know what illness was and what was down to hormones. That's when she decided she had to get out of there; for the sake of her child.

The moon gave her a slither of light but the clouds covered it over occasionally. Having to force herself to keep moving, she remounted her horse after twenty minutes of analysing everything about her very complicated life. Then, she rode on through the dense trees, considerably slowly.

Meanwhile, Arthur and Merlin rode in silence. The forest at night was dangerous with only two of them so there was none of their banter. And they were both now worried about Morgana. Despite Merlin shrugging it off, he had met King Lot when he was no more than five years old when his mother took him to the city to plead for help, and he wasn't a kind man. Then there were all the rumours and Morgana's lack of reply. He had a gut feeling that something wasn't right.

The two sturdy mares didn't need to rest much and they kept tearing through the forest, wanting to get as far from Camelot as possible so that they couldn't be dragged back until they'd checked on Morgana's wellbeing .

"Sire, Queen Morgana has disappeared," said a guard as King Lot dined alone.

"What? How has this happened?" asked a furious Lot.

"The stable boy went to check on the horses and discovered one of the old mares missing. The guards then searched for the queen and discovered her chambers and the garden unoccupied," explained the guard, shifting uncomfortably.

"Find her; and bring her to me… ALIVE," ordered Lot, throwing the platter of grapes at the guard.

"Yes, sire," finished the guard, before scampering out of the room.

Lot took a deep breath. His wife was going to die for this.

"Arthur, don't worry so much," said Merlin.

"I'm not worried, Merlin," protested Arthur.

"Don't be a prat, Arthur. It's alright to admit your emotions sometimes," continued Merlin.

"Merlin … shh," he ordered.

"Oh, come on, Arthur. Where's your sense of humour?" taunted Merlin, grinning.

"Merlin, shut up," said Arthur.

There was the sound of branches snapping and footsteps, before the trees parted to reveal – Morgana.

"Morgana?" questioned Arthur in shock.

"Arthur," responded Morgana, equally as shocked.

"What on earth are you doing in the forest alone at this time of night? There are bandits and wild animals. Anything could have happened to you," said Arthur.

"Nothing worse than what happens back in the castle," replied Morgana.

"What do you mean?" asked Arthur, suspiciously.

"I'm perfectly capable of dealing with it on my own," objected Morgana, fearing what Arthur would do, like start a war.

"Morgana, tell me now," demanded Arthur.

"Look, it's just that Lot hits me when I do something he doesn't like, and once he locked me in the dungeons for a few days. It's nothing I can't handle," Morgana lied, deliberately missing out the most recent episode.

"Morgana, I can always tell when you're lying. What else has he done?" quizzed Arthur.

"Well, he…raped me," confessed Morgana, looking at the forest floor.

"He WHAT?" bellowed Arthur as Merlin gasped.

"And I'm pregnant," declared Morgana.

"Oh, god, Morgana; I'm so sorry," said Arthur, seething.

"I'm fine, Arthur. I'm still breathing, aren't I," continued Morgana, trying to defuse him.

"But for how long?" snapped Arthur, not meaning to be angry at Morgana.

"That's exactly why I'm coming back to Camelot," explained Morgana.

"Yes, and then we're marching straight for his kingdom," threatened Arthur.

"No we're not, Arthur. We're not starting a war. I will not have millions of people dying for me. I told you; I can handle it," persisted Morgana.

"He can't get away with this," said Arthur.

"Look, he's going to come after me. I probably won't make it to Camelot, and he'll kill you and Merlin. You two need to go back. I'll be fine, I'll survive," said Morgana, realising suddenly that this was a very foolish idea "Wait… why are you in the forest?"

"We were coming to see how you were doing. When you didn't reply to the letter, we feared for your safety. And it seems we were right," explained Merlin.

"You must go now," said Morgana.

"We're not leaving without you," said Arthur.

"Look, Arthur, just go home," ordered Morgana "Merlin, make sure you're both safe. And don't tell Uther anything."

With that, she walked briskly back into the trees to her horse and mounted. Thankfully, she heard Arthur and Merlin's horses leaving. _One less problem_, she thought, _now it's just Lot to deal with_.

As if by magic, she heard horses approaching and a patrol of Lot's guards came into view.

"Hello, gentlemen; lovely evening for a ride, isn't it," said Morgana, sarcastically.

The first guard dismounted his horse and backhanded her sharply.

"Get on the horse, before I use force," he threatened.

"All you had to do was ask," said Morgana, ignoring the stinging in her cheek, used to it by now.

Careful of her slight bump, she mounted the strong stallion and was joined by the guard. Then, surrounded by the guards on their own horses, they rode off towards the castle, and to King Lot.

Subconsciously, Morgana's hand strayed to her stomach. She hadn't ever thought of motherhood before; she'd just lived each day as it came. In truth, she hadn't thought of the possibility of getting married at such a young age. She knew it would happen at some point, but she thought Uther would care about her opinion and not just marry her off to stop a war before it started. But now that she was pregnant; she felt a burning desire to protect her child with her life. It complicated things though. With a child, she was weaker. She had someone that required her protection. It wasn't just herself to think of and look after now.

"I warned you if you crossed me again you would regret it," yelled Lot.

"I only went for a ride since I get so little freedom here. And what do you even care if I go off for hours anyway?" retorted Morgana, furiously.

"You're my wife, you will do what I say," continued Lot "And you will not speak out or give your opinions like a shrew."

"So you think I'll keep quiet just because I'm a woman," countered Morgana.

"I should run you through right now," threatened Lot, unsheathing his sword.

"If you kill me you'll regret it," replied Morgana, mostly unfazed by the sharp blade at her stomach.

"And why is that?" questioned Lot, mockingly.

Morgana inwardly knew she was in no danger. Well, hopefully not. But by Lot's tone, he probably expected her to beg for her life. He was pathetic. She must have been silent for too long, because the tip of the sword was now pressing into her stomach more.

"Because I'm pregnant," declared Morgana with a calm exterior but acrobats somersaulting inside her.

"You're lying to save your skin. You've concocted this lie in the hope of mercy on my behalf," Lot bit back.

"Maybe, maybe not; but will you risk the chance of killing your own unborn heir?" asked Morgana, challengingly.

"I will spare you this time," said Lot with a growl "But if you are lying to me then god help you; I'll do a hell of a lot more than run you through. And if you run away again or insult me, you will die, regardless if you are with child."

With that, he sheathed his sword again and stalked out in a foul mood.

Morgana breathed a sigh of relief and then smiled slightly. She hadn't anticipated if Lot would care or not. But the main point was that her child was safe – for now.

**So now Lot and Arthur and Merlin know. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and please, please review. It makes my day. In the next chapter, the child is born. But will it be a male or a female? Keep reading and reviewing. **


	5. The Offspring

I don't really like this chapter, but I am uploading it anyway. What do you all think? What do you think should happen next? If you have any ideas feel free to review them or PM them. I have got a brief idea of where this fic is going though. Please review:)

**5) The Offspring**

Seeking solitude, Morgana was sitting in her garden. She rested her back against the oak tree, and her hand went to her huge baby bump. She felt a soft kick and smiled. It wouldn't be long now, and then her life would once again have a purpose. If only she was in Camelot to deliver her precious child.

As she stared up at the vibrant blue sky, Morgana felt a sharp twinge in her stomach. She shifted positions and was alright for a while, until another painful cramp came.

Morgana started to panic. If she knew anything, she knew that her baby was coming now. She attempted to stand up but doubled over. Eventually, she managed to stumble out of the garden to the courtyard, wincing at the quickening contractions.

"My lady," said one of the closest guards, seeing her hunched up.

"I'm going into labour," replied Morgana, fighting to control her breathing.

The guard called over several others and they lifted Morgana up carefully and began to carry her up to her chambers. If she wasn't in labour, Morgana would have protested, but right now she was trying to stop herself from crying out as the pain grew.

When they got to her chambers, Lot was sitting at the table.

"What's happening?" he demanded, as they entered.

"I've gone into labour," answered Morgana, before her face contorted with pain.

"This is excellent;" exclaimed Lot, breaking into a grin "Set her down on the bed and send for the midwife. It's time for my son to meet us."

The guards did as he bid and Morgana propped herself up on the bed. Her angry expression was masked by her concentration. How could Lot just expect the baby to be a boy? And she had a sense that it would be a daughter they would have. Where would that leave both her and her child?

_**3 Hours Later**_

"It's a girl," declared the midwife.

Morgana flopped back against her blood-stained sheets, exhausted but exhilarated. The midwife handed her the delicate girl. She was beautiful. She had black wispy hair and blue eyes like crystals; almost identical to her mother.  
>"All you had to do was give me a son," said Lot with quiet anger.<p>

"Well, I gave you a perfectly healthy daughter," replied Morgana, too tired to get caught up in an argument.

"What good is a daughter to me?" asked Lot, furiously, before storming out of the chambers.

The midwife looked at Morgana with something between sympathy and congratulations; but the new mother ignored her and motioned her out. Her eyes were all for her daughter. She solemnly swore to love and to cherish her child for as long as she lived.

_**1 Week Later**_

King Lot entered the throne room with Queen Morgana by his side. She cradled their daughter in her arms. Both of them had genuine smiles on their face. Although a daughter was not worth half of a son, at least he could marry her off to secure an alliance when she was old enough. And there was plenty of time to get his wife pregnant with his son.

"We are gathered here today to witness the christening of the king and queen's first child," said the bishop.

The courtiers all clapped when he took the girl from her mother's arms and supported her gently.

"I name you Arya Jane, Princess of Esscetir," declared the bishop, as he drew a small cross on her forehead in water.

Cheers and applause resounded around the hall with shouts of 'Long lives Princess Arya'. Morgana beamed at the ground as her daughter was placed back in her arms, clad in her white lace christening dress.

_**2 Years Later**_

"I'm pregnant," declared Morgana, as Lot was pulling on his sword belt for the day's training session.

"That's good. I was beginning to think you were unable to conceive again," said Lot "I thought you were going to leave me with only a daughter."

"Arya is a beautiful little girl. I love her with all of my heart, and more," countered Morgana, angered.

"Well, I hope for your sake, that you give me a son, or you will never see your dear daughter again," threatened Lot, before making to leave "And we will announce this most excellent news in court later today."

Morgana went and sat on the window sill, surveying the crowds. Since she'd arrived in Esscetir, the people had come out a lot more, which pleased her. Since Arya's christening, Lot had only paid attention to his daughter in front of the court. Basically, he wanted nothing to do with her until she was old enough to marry off. She sighed, moving away from the window and going to collect her daughter from the nursery to take her for a walk. Some things weren't fair; but life wasn't fair.

_**11 Years Later**_

Morgana watched as Arya, Edmund and Alana played together. Luckily, her three children got on well and Arya was always protective of her two younger siblings.

"Arya, Alana, why have you missed your embroidery lesson?" asked Lot, entering the garden.

The two girls shuffled their feet, and Edmund looked between them and his father nervously; knowing he would not be pleased if he learnt they had been skiving.

"Run along now, children," ordered Morgana, in a kind but firm voice.

"But, mother," protested Arya.

"Now," commanded Morgana.

Dejectedly, the three children ran off, laughing happily. Just like me and Arthur, Morgana thought but then pushed them to the back of her mind. Those times were over; she had a family. Although, Arthur, Merlin and Gwen had tried to contact her, she had never replied except to say she was perfectly well and update them on her children's lives. It would stir too many old memories to see them again and lose them again. And she could never tell them of Lot's continuing abuse for fear of starting a war.

"Morgana," thundered Lot "Arya and Alana must participate in their lessons or I will see that they are punished. You will not defend them again or you too will suffer."

"You will not touch my children," said Morgana, fiercely protective of them.

Lot's hand connected with her face and she was sent across the garden, knocking her head against the tree. And then white spots danced in her eyes until she finally gave in and succumbed to darkness.

_**3 Hours Later**_

Morgana slowly came to, staring up at a length of diamond encrusted black velvet. She sat up, and winced at the sharp pain in the back of her head. With great determination, she stood up and leaned back against the tree, which was decorated with specks of blood – her blood.

Morgana touched the back of her head to find it matted with dried blood. She could feel a gash, but it was only small, and she decided against seeking the physician's help in favour of seeking out her children t0 make sure Lot hadn't harmed them.

She managed to walk normally into the castle, acting as if she was perfectly alright. When she reached Arya's chambers, she heard muffled voices inside.

"Come in," said her eldest daughter as she knocked lightly on the door.

"Hello, Arya, Alana," greeted Morgana, seeing her eight year old sitting at the table, too.

Trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, Morgana surveyed her two daughters but both of them seemed unharmed.

"Mother, what happened to your cheek?" asked Alana, concerned.

"Nothing, I'm just clumsy, dear," replied Morgana, trying not to act flustered.

She could have kicked herself for forgetting about Lot's slap and the bruise it was sure to leave. Then, she thought about her blood-covered hair and what they would think.

"Are you sure?" asked Arya, her eyes telling her she didn't believe a word of it.

"Of course, my child," answered Morgana, chuckling at the sharpness of her daughter; a quality she too had.

As she turned to leave, praying her daughters wouldn't notice the blood, she knew they already had from the gasps that they hastily tried to mask.

"Goodnight, girls," said Morgana as airily as she could before closing the door behind her.

But the girls knew something had happened in the garden; and they were almost positive that it was related to their father. Their mother had tried to protect them and ended up facing his wrath herself.


	6. Decisions

Hi again, everyone reading this :) Thanks to everyone who reviewed and I am sorry if I did not reply individually, I haven't been feeling too well, but I'm fine again today so here's the next chapter. Keep reading and reviewing. Please, pretty please. Hope you enjoy! :DDDD

**6) Decisions**

Arya and Alana rode off into the clearing in the forest; accompanied by Edmund.

"I'll race you," challenged Arya, urging her mare into a gallop.

Laughing, the three of them rode to the clearing, their horses' hooves barely touching the ground. Their father would never allow this, but they didn't care. Their mother had told them stories of when she was younger and had rode off with her foster-brother and beat him at sword play.

Once they reached their own, private clearing, they tethered their horses to the trees beside the river.

Arya then unsheathed the sword her mother had given her which she always kept under her cloak if she was travelling along with two daggers. _Women must have the ability to fight, more so than men because they are targeted in the event of an attack. Plus, it's better than being a typical lady_; Arya replayed her mother's exact words in her head and smiled. Her mother had never played by the rules.

"Come on, who'll fight me?" she asked her siblings with playful competition.

"I will," replied Edmund, unsheathing his own sword.

Alana gave a slight giggle and went to sit in the shade of the tree, taking out her own thin blade and turning it around in her hand. She enjoyed sparring, despite what her father said about it not being fit for ladies. She felt powerful with her sword or daggers in her hand; untouchable, unreachable and free.

Arya and Edmund fought well together; lunge, parry, lunge, parry; until they returned to circling each other. Nimbly, Arya lunged for her brother and then moved back against the sudden rain of blows. She hopped across the stones until she was at the other side of the river. The pair fought a while longer, until Edmund successfully disarmed his lesser experienced sister.

Then, Alana stepped up and they too fought. Alana fought with fierce concentration, trying to recall all the moves and strategies both her brother and her sister had taught her, but a few minutes later she was lying on the ground with her sword by her side.

Good naturedly, Edmund helped her to her feet.

"Alright, Arya, me and you against Edmund," said Alana, challengingly.

"Ok," agreed Edmund.

With the three children totally and completely lost in their spar, they didn't hear the soft thud of horses' hooves on the forest floor.

As Arya lunged for Edmund, a strong clash against her sword made her drop it. She felt a sharp, stinging sensation on her forearm and looked down to see a wide but thankfully not too deep gash, seeping crimson blood.

"Father," said a panicked Alana.

Arya snapped her head up to see Lot going insane with rage. Alana was shuffling nervously and Edmund gulped, worriedly.

"And what, may I ask, are you all doing out here, _sword-fighting_," queried the livid man.

"We were practicing our sword skills, father," replied Arya, bravely, when her two siblings stayed silent.

"And did I not ban such acts?" probed Lot.

"We…we just want to learn how to fight… like mother did," answered Alana, timidly.

"That's what guards are for," screamed Lot, unleashing his fury like lava erupting from a previously dormant volcano.

The three children were scared stiff. Arya stopped herself from stepping back as Alana clutched her hand. Edmund stood his ground as well.

"And you," Lot continued to yell, directing his fury on his son now "How dare you practice with your sisters and teach them how to sword fight in the first place?"

"I thought they should be able to protect themselves in the event of an attack," replied Edmund, staring at his father.

"Ladies do embroidery, and reading, and singing; they do not engage in sword play. That is for boys to learn so they can become knights. Ladies are there to look pretty and provide sons for their husbands," said Lot.

"We don't want to be typical ladies who stand no chance in an attack," countered Arya, determined not to back down.

"Well, if you two don't want to act like ladies, you can spend a few nights in the dungeons to see what happens to those who defy me," declared Lot "And you, Edmund, will join them for providing the means for them to go against me; the king."

"What's wrong with sword-fighting?" asked Arya.

Lot backhanded her.

"Now, get on your horses and follow me; and if you even try to ride off I'll have you in the stocks for a week," ordered the king, before remounting his own horse and trotting out of the clearing.

Alana placed a hand over her sister's red cheek, but Arya brushed her off.

"This is what happens to mother," she whispered as she unknotted the ropes "It's only a slap, Alana. Don't worry so. Just don't do anything wrong, ok."

"Ok, Arya," said Alana with a sympathetic smile.

"Come on, we better go before we anger our _father_ further," said Edmund.

"Where are our children?" Morgana asked Lot that evening "I haven't seen any of them since breakfast."

"The children are in the dungeons," answered Lot, sipping from his goblet.

"What?" Morgana asked.

By now she was used to him abusing her every other day, but she never thought he'd harm their children; especially Edmund, the son he always desired.

"Arya and Alana were sword-fighting with Edmund. If they seek to engage in unladylike activities, they can spend a few unladylike nights in the cells," replied Lot.

"They're just children. I fought with a sword when I was younger and it never done me any harm, but it taught me how to protect myself," argued Morgana, angrily.

"And you're now a mouthy, out-of-place woman," said Lot.

"Just because I'm not like all the other airhead women of the court who would do anything to please and appease their king," retorted Morgana.

"Well, I want to be able to marry our daughters off to high and powerful men; and no-one will want them if they are challenging and defiant," continued Lot.

"But it was me; I taught them how to fight in secret. I told them to practise. If you must blame someone, blame me," said Morgana, telling a half-truth.

After all, she had told her daughters that it was important to defend yourself in the art of sword-fighting. And she'd asked Edmund to help them learn to which he'd agreed.

"Very well, you can join your children in the dungeons then. It's time you learned not to defy me, as well," declared Lot.

Then, he grabbed a handful of her hair and dragged her out of the chambers, passing unsuspecting but nevertheless enlightened servants. After all, living in the king's castle, you go to know a regular occurrence.

"Get your hands off of me," ordered Morgana, as they neared the dungeons.

Lot pushed her up against the stone wall.

"Or what?" he asked.

Morgana turned her head to the side but Lot gripped her chin and turned her to face him. He then started kissing her passionately.

When he'd finished that, he grabbed her arms and dragged her to the cell where the three children were contained. He secured chains around her wrists and then made for the door.

"I shall see that you are all released in three days," said Lot, as he left.

Morgana looked at her children who were unbound. Alana's dark plait was unravelled and her pink dress was grimy, but she looked otherwise unharmed. Edmund too seemed perfectly well but his face wore a worried expression. Arya was sitting in the corner of the dingy cell. Her hair hung limp and knotted around her face, and on her cheek was a large, hand-shaped bruise. The hem of her over dress was ripped and tied around her wrist.

"Arya, what's happened?" asked Morgana, anxious.

"Nothing, mother; I merely scraped my wrist on the bark of the tree," answered Arya, looking at her feet.

"And what happened to your cheek?" queried Morgana.

"Nothing, I'm just clumsy," replied Arya, quoting her mother's own words.

"Arya, don't lie to me. What happened?" interrogated Morgana.

"When father found us practising, he cut her wrist with his sword; I think it was an accident, though," responded Edmund "And then she protested about her and Alana not being allowed to spar so he slapped her."

"Thank you, child," said Morgana "Arya, come over here, darling."

"I'm fine," protested Arya, stubbornly "I've faced worse."

"Arya, I can't come over due to these chains, now come here at once," ordered Morgana.

Reluctantly, Arya went over and sat in front of her mother. Morgana removed the dress bandage which had stemmed the bleeding. The wound wasn't overly worrying. It was the fact that it was Lot who had inflicted it, and slapped her, that really wound her up.

"Edmund, Alana, come over here, too," said Morgana, tearing off her own dress and re-bandaging Arya's wrist.

Obediently, the two children moved over.

"Look, since I first married Lot, he has been abusive towards me. Now, I can just about bare it, but I will not let him harm you; you are all too precious to me," said Morgana in a hushed voice "I am getting us all out of here."

"But where will we go?" asked Alana, speaking for the first time.

"Before I married your father, I was the ward of King Uther of Camelot. I received word a few years ago that he died. My foster-brother Arthur is now king. He will welcome us, I am positive. We were friends; really good friends," explained Morgana, smiling "But don't breathe a word of this to anyone or I'll be executed, and so might you, girls. I'm already on a final warning. Don't even speak amongst yourselves in case we get caught, ok."

"Alright, mother," chorused the three children.

"Good, now get some rest," said Morgana "And Arya, tell me if your wrist feels any worse."

The three children all went to the closest corner and curled up, falling asleep quickly, leaving Morgana to plan an actual escape for the four of them. She has sworn never to let any harm come to her children, and that was an oath she intended to keep, with her dying breath.


	7. Set in Motion

**7) Set in Motion**

**A/N – Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. I love reading them. I hope you enjoy this chapter: DDDD**

"So, are you ready to apologize?" asked King Lot, entering the chilly dungeon.

"We are terribly sorry for sword-fighting against your will," said Arya after a pointed glance from her mother.

"And we promise not to do it again," continued Alana.

"And I will only train with the other boys," finished Edmund.

"Very good; I see you've learned your lesson. Now, on you go up to your chambers and get yourselves cleaned up. I shall dine with you all tonight," said Lot, briskly.

"Thank you, father," said the three children in unison before scampering out of their cell with a backward glance to their mother.

Morgana watched them go and then turned her head to face her horrible husband, staring up at him in a somewhat defiant manner.

"And you, are you ready to apologize?" asked Lot.

"Do I have a choice?" questioned Morgana, tartly.

"That's enough of your smartass answers. Now, will you apologize or do you need to spend another night in this freezing cold cell?" asked Lot, angrily.

"You only had to ask. Ok, I'm sorry," said Morgana, titling her head to the side slightly "Is that enough?"

In a mad rage, Lot unshackled and unceremoniously shoved her out of the cell.

"Go to our chambers and don't leave until tomorrow," ordered Lot.

"I'm a big girl, now, you can't confine me," said Morgana, tauntingly.

"It's that or another night restrained. Make your choice," said Lot.

"I suppose I'll pick our chambers … but what am I supposed to do with my wrists," responded Morgana, holding her raw wrists up.

"You want to act defiant; those are the marks of defiance. Now go," ordered Lot.

Morgana flicked her hair over her shoulder and headed to the chambers. She made sure not to touch her sore wrists until she was well out of view of Lot. _Not long now_, she thought,_ not long till we're all free of him. _

Back in the shared chambers, Morgana sat down on the bed. She was tempted to rip her dress and bandage her wrists, but then decided she did want everyone to see her marks, and show Lot that he couldn't grind her down.

Knowing she would have a long wait, she sat by the window and started to plan exactly how she was going to escape Lot's evil clutches with her children.

By nightfall, Morgana had decided that she would wait until Lot was in an important council meeting and then get all of her children. Then, she would make sure they all carried swords and they'd go out through the servants' corridors, and try not to have to deal with too many guards. Once they were in the forest, they would start walking north to Camelot. She just hoped they wouldn't encounter too many problems. Still, if they didn't risk it, they would be forever trapped. Alana and Arya would be married off to any man who could very well be abusive; and Edmund would be forced into a life of a knight and a king of a fearful kingdom and forced to marry. And with her tongue, Morgana knew that Lot would probably kill her if anything else happened, now that he had his heir and two daughters to marry off.

It was over a week later and Lot had a meeting the next day about his army which meant that he would be occupied pretty much all day, and only the bare minimum amount of guards would be on duty and no knights. Morgana decided that it was now or never.

When she was sure Lot was soundly sleeping, Morgana got up and tiptoed out of the chambers. As guards passed on their patrol, she backed into the shadows, and, like Camelot guards, they continued to talk and passed straight by her..

Then, keeping the same routine, she made it down to the armoury. Once there, she took four swords and tried to conceal the missing ones as best as possible. Satisfied, she crept back up to the chambers successfully and slipped the swords into her wardrobe; where only she went – usually.

The next morning, Morgana woke as Lot ordered his poor servant around. She got up and Lot gave her a quick kiss and told her to be waiting at the end of the meeting because he needed something to look forward to after a day of tedious politics.

"Of course," replied Morgana, flashing him her best smile.

_He's in for a shock_, thought Morgana, _because come tonight he won't have me or my children ever again_.

As soon as Lot left, Morgana quickly dismissed her maids, saying she was perfectly capable of dressing herself. She pulled on a pair of breeches from the back of her wardrobe and a slightly-small tunic before putting her most simple dress and most comfortable shoes on.

Morgana walked swiftly to Arya's chambers. Once there, she found Arya's brushing her hair.

"Arya," said Morgana.

"Yes, mother," responded Arya, turning round.

"It's time," explained Morgana.

"What do I have to do?" asked Arya, nodding.

"Dress in something practical," whispered Morgana "And can you tell Alana to do the same."

"Of course," replied Arya.

"And Arya, take this and give one to your sister. And make sure you have daggers on you. Do you remember what I told you?" said Morgana, handing two sword belts to her eldest daughter.

"One in my shoe, one up my sleeve," replied Arya with a smile.

"Good girl," said Morgana "Now, make sure you and Alana stay together. I will tell Edmund and be ready for me coming to collect you."

"We will, mother, I promise," finished Arya.

Morgana nodded and then left to have more or less the same chat with her son.

After discussing the plan with Edmund, Morgana went back to her chambers. She put her sword belt on under her dress and then slipped a dagger in each shoe and one up her sleeve. _You can never be too careful_.

For a brief moment, Morgana wondered if she was doing the right thing. If they got caught, she couldn't ensure that any of her children would live, and Lot would relish in finally getting rid of her. But she couldn't back out. Her children would definitely have a better life in Camelot under Arthur's rule.

Around an hour later, Morgana went to Edmund's chambers and knocked three times. He appeared at the door, his hunting bag slung over his shoulder and hopefully filled with some food and water for the journey back to Camelot.

"Come on," she said.

The two of them rushed for the girls' chambers. Both Arya and Alana had changed and had weapons on them, but with their dresses and cloaks, they didn't look too obvious.

Morgana ushered the three children along the rest of the corridor and down a flight of stairs before pulling them up the servants' corridor.

As they headed down, several servants looked at them nosily but Morgana forced her children on through the stares, hoping they would make it out of the castle before one of the servants blabbed to the guards or worse, the king.

"Princess Arya," said a guard as they got out in the courtyard, so far undetected.

"Yes," replied Arya, groaning inwardly.

"The king requires your presence in the great hall immediately," explained the guard.

Morgana's heart almost stopped. Did Lot know that they were trying to escape, or was it just a coincidence?

"Of course," answered Morgana "I will ensure my daughter gets there."

The guard nodded and then left to continue further duties.

As soon as he was gone, Arya started heading to her father.

"Arya, where are you going?" asked Alana.

"If the guards see me, they will know something is wrong," answered Arya.

"We must leave now. We may not get another chance," said Morgana.

"No, you must go without me," declared Arya.

"Arya, we are not leaving you behind," said Edmund.

"You must or we'll all get caught," protested Arya.

"No, you come with us or none of us leave," stated Morgana.

"Mother, please, I'll be fine," argued Arya.

"But father will execute you for treason if he discovers you were somehow involved in us leaving," continued Alana.

"I'll catch you up once I've spoken with the king. I've got my sword if anything happens," complained Arya, patting her hip.

"Arya, we haven't got time for this. As your mother I'm ordering you to come with us," said Morgana, firmly "Now, hurry up before we all get caught."

Sighing, Arya walked briskly to keep up with her mother. The courtyard was empty aside from several servants, so they were easy to spot in their finery.

"Hurry," said Morgana, urgently.

**A/N – I know this is an odd place to end the chapter but it would be difficult to find another place otherwise. I hope you all like it so far. Please, read and review :) The next chapter shall be up in a few days. **


	8. Complications

**8) Complications**

"Where are you going, my lady?" asked one of the guards, spotting the foursome as they headed towards the gates.

Morgana cursed; she knew it was a mistake to go straight for the gates, but with the empty courtyard, anything else would look suspicious.

"I am going for a walk with my children. I haven't spent enough time with them recently," answered Morgana, confidently.

"I'm sorry, my lady, but the king has instructed that no-one leaves the castle today. I'm afraid you will have to take your walk in the grounds," responded the guard.

"I am your queen, and I demand that you let us go for a walk," said Morgana, staring at him menacingly.

"My lady, the king has forbidden it and all I can do is obey," continued the guard, nervously.

"I will only ask you one more time," threatened Morgana, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.

"What do you mean?" queried the guard, stuttering slightly.

"I'm sorry," said Morgana, heartfelt, before unsheathing her sword and plunging it into his stomach.

All at once, guards came flooding into the courtyard. The guard dropped dead and Morgana pulled her blood-covered sword out.

"Run," she ordered her children.

All three of them unsheathed their own swords and then started to run at breakneck speed through the gates and into the forest. Behind them, they heard feet thumping against the hard ground and the faint toll of the warning bell.

"This way," ordered Morgana, veering off the main path in favour of a rocky passage.

The passage twisted and turned but the guards were still hot on their trail.

"We need to get up," said Edmund.

"Why?" Alana asked.

"If we can get to the top we can see how many men there are and we'll be able to run faster before they get out as well," explained Edmund.

"It's all we've got," said Morgana.

Although it was a slippery and relatively steep incline, the four of them managed to scramble up the rock face before the guards could catch them.

Looking down from the top, they realised that there were around twenty angry guards, with more swarming out of the castle.

"We need to keep going," said Arya, practically "It won't take them long to get up here, as well."

Morgana nodded and once again they started running, but this time, they just concentrated on getting away from the guards and the castle.

Suddenly, Alana stumbled over a protruding tree root. She tried to grab onto the closest tree branch, but unfortunately, the thin branch snapped and the princess went hurtling to the ground. She cracked her head on one of the rocks and lay there still.

Arya was by her side in an instant. Already, she could see blood pooling from her sister's head.

"Alana," she said, frantically "Alana, can you hear me?"

By this time, Morgana and Edmund were crouched down as well. Morgana gently turned her daughter over. She ripped the hem of her dress and carefully mopped up the blood as best as she could. Then, she tore another bit off and wrapped it around Alana's head.

"We need to find shelter," said Morgana.

"You two carry Alana. I'll make a decoy for the guards," offered Arya.

"Arya, it's too dangerous. With your sister like this, we can't fight off an attack," protested Morgana.

"Mother, head to the east and find a cave or something; but Edmund, try not to leave any tracks for the guards," said Arya.

"But what about you?" Edmund asked, worriedly.

"I'll find you soon enough. But I'm perfectly capable of finding somewhere to hide. Please, I need to do this or we'll all get caught," pleaded Arya.

"Ok," Morgana relented, knowing her daughter's stubbornness was similar to her own "But if the situation gets too dangerous you run. Keep heading north, don't wait for us. Any guards in red cloaks with a gold dragon and from Camelot, they will take you to Arthur if you tell them who you are."

"I will," promised Arya "Now, good luck."

Morgana and Edmund began to carry Alana away from them, worried about leaving her alone. Arya dashed off the other way, making sure she left tracks in the mud. When she had been running for a few minutes, she stopped.

Then she took one of her daggers out and slashed at her dress until she had a handful of jagged material in her hand.

Moving over to a tree, Arya snagged the cloth carelessly but securely on the branch of the tree. _The guards will probably know that I have set it on purpose to go the other way_, thought Arya to herself, _so I will do what they least expect_.

She quickly darted past the tree, taking care not to leave any tracks. Then, she pulled herself up onto the lower branches of a tree and continued to haul herself up, until she was around halfway up but out of sight from below. She pulled her legs up onto the wide bough and sat as still and as silent as possible.

As she anticipated, the guards instantly thought she had tried to set a decoy and went hurtling down the other track. She smirked at this before standing up and climbing higher up the tree for a better view of the forest.

The castle was a small speck on the horizon and in all directions there was nothing but forests. She continued to scan her surroundings, squinting to get a good look, and eventually spotted a river a few miles from her.

Ten minutes later, Arya climbed down the tree and headed off in the direction of the water source. She had a good idea that that's where her mother and brother would be heading, so they could stay for a few days until Alana recovered.

Meanwhile, Morgana and Edmund were heading towards the river and they could hear the trickling water. Alana had broken out in a fever, and Morgana, having basic healers' skills, knew they had to cool her down, and fast.

As they walked, both of them were silently worrying about Arya all alone in the forest. _She knows how to fight and how to survive_, Edmund tried to reassure himself, _in fact, she's probably on her way to the river just now_.

Around fifteen minutes later, the pair reached the river and gently laid Alana down on the soft grass.

"I'll go and look for a shelter, mother," said Edmund, as Morgana picked up some moss and proceeded to soak it.

"That's a good idea; but be careful, please," responded Morgana, sucking her lip in concentration as she thought of how to treat Alana.

_Lot is going to pay for this_, she thought as her son left, _he might have got away with hitting me for the past 14 years, but he will not get away with hurting my children_.

Once Morgana had brought Alana's fever under control, she moved to examine the head wound. It wasn't too deep, but Alana had lost an awful lot of blood. That was probably why she was unconscious, not because of the head wound.

Morgana took some more moss and then started to gently clean the cut. Alana flinched at each touch but remained asleep.

Quickly, Morgana slipped her dress off and started to tear it up. She soaked the strips in water and then bound them together, before placing it over her daughter's head and tying it securely.

It was around an hour later, and Morgana was sitting with her feet in the cool water, using a cool cloth on Alana every so often. Edmund had returned to tell her he had found a small cave not that far away, but had then gone to get some food for the night, deciding to save their provisions in case they desperately needed them.

Suddenly, Arya stumbled out of the trees, looking dishevelled and slightly bruised, but not half as bad as her sister.

"Mother," she said, happily.

"Arya," exclaimed Morgana, joyfully "You found us."

"How's Alana?" asked Arya, anxiously.

"I think she will wake up soon," explained Morgana.

"Where's Edmund?" questioned Arya, looking around the river bank.

"He has gone to find us some food," replied Morgana "Now, come and clean yourself up."

Arya did as she was bid, glad to feel the water on her grubby, grimy skin. She quickly removed her tattered dress and threw it into the water, where it was carried away from them.

"Arya, you're back," said Edmund, entering through a gap in the trees.

He rushed over to the trio and dumped the armful of edible berries and nuts on the grass along with two small rabbits that he'd speared with his daggers.

Morgana quickly started a fire, being careful to only have it lit enough to cook the meat, and not let off too much smoke.

As they were eating, Alana fluttered her eyelids open and her finger twitched. She then opened her eyes fully and attempted to sit up.

"Ow; what's happening?" she asked, flopping back down onto the grass.


	9. The Journey

A/N - Hey, guys. I'm so so sorry I haven't update in like, centuries. I had a complete block but with the new series of Merlin fast (but not fast enough) approaching, I am determined to finish my ongoing Merlin fics so I can start new ones. I hate reading an unfinished fic so I don't want to disappoint and leave you loyal readers with one. I hope you enjoy this and forgive me :D Please read and review :DDDDD I solemnly swear to finish it this time.

* * *

><p><strong>9) The Journey <strong>

"Alana, darling, are you alright?" asked Morgana, instantly embracing her youngest child.

"Mother, what's happened?" questioned Alana.

"We're on our way to Camelot. We're not staying with your father any longer," said Morgana "Once we're safe, I'm going to make him sorry he ever hurt you, or me."

"What happened to me?" asked Alana, as she gingerly brought a hand to her bandaged head.

"We were running, and you had a fall. You've been unconscious ever since," explained Arya.

"Alana, do you think you're well enough to walk?" asked Morgana.

"I think so," replied Alana.

Morgana nodded and then handed her some food and water. She then passed it out between her other two children. If they were to make it to Camelot, they'd need to keep their strength up and they'd need to move quickly.

* * *

><p>"Let's go," said Morgana, as the sun started to set.<p>

"Is that wise? It's almost dark and we need to rest," said Edmund.

"We need to get to Camelot. Lot won't rest until we're found. We can't rest until we're safe. Only Arthur can protect us. Then we can rest all we want."

"And if we're caught."

"Then we're in massive trouble, particularly me."

With that, they crossed the river and began to head through the dense forest. The last of the sunlight was blocked from view by the canopy of leaves but there was still enough light to guide them, for now. It was easier to stay hidden amongst the trees rather than on the path. So far, there were no signs of pursuit but they weren't fools. Lot wouldn't rest until they were found and brought back to him. The only place they could be safe was in Camelot. But the kingdom was still a two day ride away and since they had no horses, it would take at least four days to arrive there.

* * *

><p>Silence surrounded them as they trudged on through the forest, late into the night. The sky was a sheet of undisturbed black velvet; no stars and no moon. Their feet snapped the twigs and crunched the leaves crisp with frost from the chilly air, as they tried to navigate their way through the pitch black forest.<p>

Morgana led the way, finding the navigation fairly simple. She didn't know where they were exactly but she knew that Camelot was north. The forest may be dense, but life with Arthur as a child had taught her how to survive as well as any knight. She hoped that by some miracle they could reach a village before that. As long as it was familiar, she could trust the people to help, even if it was just some food and horses. But that would still be a while. It was a long way until they crossed Lot's borders.

"Mother," said Alana, patting her arm.

"Yes, darling," replied Morgana, her daughter's pale face only just visible in the darkness.

"I don't feel well."

"We can't stop now, Alana. We need to wait until dawn and then we can find shelter."

Morgana sighed deeply before she found Alana's hand and held it tightly so that there was no chance of her losing them. Arya and Edmund trailed behind, whispering to each other as they followed. The eldest two children were both excited at the prospect of a new life away from their father. And they couldn't wait to see if their mother's stories of her childhood were true.

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><p>By the time dawn came, Morgana was carrying Alana in her arms, even though she was heavy. She'd fallen asleep in her arms but the more worrying thing was the fact that the head wound's blood flow had started up again. In the light, the stain of blood on the cloth was frightening.<p>

"We'll stop here," said Morgana, knowing they couldn't go on indefinitely.

Edmund came beside her as Arya took Alana and somehow managed to hold her in her arms before placing her down on a pile of leaves and sitting beside her.

"Mother, we can't stop here, father will find us," protested Edmund as he looked at their surroundings.

Just under an hour ago, they had come out of the deeper forest and now they were in a clearing ringed with trees. If Lot should come, they would be easily surrounded with no-where to run or to hide.

"We have no choice, Edmund. Your sisters are exhausted. We can only pray the gods are with us," replied Morgana.

"I'll take the first watch," he offered.

"No. We must all rest. We can't stay here, so we need to have a short sleep and then head off again," said Morgana.

At the edge of the clearing there was a small gap which went in to the side of a small hill a bit. Morgana carefully lifted Alana into the hole and, after Arya offered to stay with her, she tried to conceal it as best as possible, hoping that if they were ambushed; her daughters at least could make it to Camelot. Edmund settled against one of the thicker trees, his back against it and his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Morgana sat in the middle of the clearing and twirled the wild flowers between her fingers. Her three children were sleeping and she couldn't help feel an enormous amount of pride. They'd all been through so much at such a young age and they still hadn't given up. She was eternally grateful that they had taken after her and not turned out malicious and cruel like their father. Her daughters were so much like her; breaking free of the expectations of being a highborn lady, and her son had hints of Arthur's chivalry and bravery.

Eventually, Morgana drifted into a fitful sleep, right in the middle of the clearing, amongst the flowers.

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><p>When Morgana awoke, it was around mid-afternoon. She supposed it was a good thing she hadn't been disturbed; it meant Lot hadn't found them, yet. She raised herself onto her elbows and looked around the clearing, her eyes falling on her children on the other side. Alana's makeshift bandage had been cleaned and she looked a lot healthier. All of the children did.<p>

"Children, come over here," said Morgana as she stood up and brushed the loose grass off her.

Full of energy, they obeyed and stood beside her. Morgana was quite taken aback by their optimism considering they were on the run. Perhaps it was down to the fact that they had no restrictions.

"We need to leave now," Morgana told them.

As soon as they had all sheathed their swords, they set off through the forest once again. It was warmer and birds chirped in the trees, totally oblivious to their troubles.

"Mother," said Arya as they walked briskly.

"Yes, Arya," responded Morgana.

"What's King Arthur like?" asked her eldest daughter, buzzing with curiosity.

Morgana smiled fondly. As much as she had always bickered with him, Arthur was like a brother to her. She'd spent most of her childhood with him since her father died in battle, rendering her an orphan. He'd helped her through it, he'd taught her to sword fight, he'd stuck up for her and he'd been her companion.

"He's like your brother. Brave, strong, noble. He's not at all like your father, Arya. He cares about his people and he doesn't care much for statuses. He's a great warrior and I'm sure he's a great ruler," answered Morgana, as the memories she'd supressed because it was too painful started to rush back to her.

"Is he better than you?" questioned Arya.

"At what?" said Morgana, lost in the fondness of her childhood.

"Is King Arthur a better swordsman than you? Or a better ruler?" asked Arya, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"I don't know about that," said Morgana with a smirk "I'll bet he needs a good fight with someone not afraid to beat him.

Arya grinned at her mother as she unsheathed her sword and started practicing her moves as they continued on their journey.

"As for ruling, well, he's had more practice," finished Morgana.

As Arya moved ahead, slicing her blade through the air and practicing her footwork nimbly, Morgana felt an overwhelming desire to be with Arthur. All of the years secluded and abused by Lot made her crave the love and attention of the now king. Her children loved her with all of their hearts, she didn't doubt it, but she yearned for someone to hold her and tell her everything would be ok in the end. She didn't want to be the strong forever. She needed a break from the life or death responsibility.

* * *

><p>The next day as they were once again travelling after a short rest, the weather took a turn for the worst. The sky was overcast and threatened a storm, reflecting Morgana's mood and pessimism greatly. She didn't believe it was this far to Camelot and they hadn't even reached the border, yet. She started to think they'd be stuck walking forever until Lot caught them or they were handed in but a villager or a stray guard. Alana too was miserable and dragged her feet along despite the optimistic Arya and the highly determined Edmund's attempts to lift her spirits with mythical tales from books they'd read. As if to mock them, the clouds broke and the rain begun to fall until it was lashing them. It whipped their faces cruelly and drenched them from head to toe. Still, Arya's optimism didn't falter as she tried to make her companions smile, to no avail.<p>

With the crack of thunder, Edmund led them on to the path, fearing lightning. Morgana had now fallen to the back of their small group and it was up to the two eldest to lead them onwards. Alana had been worse, telling them it was absolutely pointless to keep going. The freezing rain had turned her nose ruby red and she shivered with no protection from the merciless weather. Morgana kept a steady pace and seemed unaffected by the weather, her threadbare cloak not even draped over her shoulders. She had a vacant look in her eye but she would smile weakly every so often. It was as if she had taken her mind to a happier place, which couldn't be hard.

There was no food left and a bare minimum of water. That was all they carried aside from their swords. Arya and Edmund were sparring as they walked, trying to keep warmer. Alana had point blank refused to join them, so both had tied their cloaks around her, which seemed to lift her mood a little. She certainly wasn't shivering half as much.

"Mother," said Arya, as it neared nightfall.

"Hmm," Morgana replied, distanced.

"Mother, we can't be far from Camelot now. You need to keep strong. Alana needs you," continued Arya.

Morgana snapped back to the present all at once and for the first time seemed to notice the ghastly weather, pulling her cloak tightly around her shoulders in an attempt to shield her shivering body.

"Thank you, Arya, darling," said Morgana as she hurried to her youngest daughter and picked her up, holding her close even though it slowed her.

* * *

><p>"Shh," ordered Edmund, ushering his mother and sisters further into the trees alongside the road.<p>

Alana seemed panic-stricken but Morgana held both her and Arya close as she unsheathed her sword. Edmund had already done so and was peering around the tree, surveying the road.

"What's wrong?" whispered Morgana.

Edmund brought a finger to his lips before pointing to his ear and then the road in the direction they were heading. Morgana nodded her understanding. She exhaled deeply in relief. It couldn't be Lot or they would have already found them by now if they'd passed. It seemed they had managed to out run him. He hadn't seemed to give much of a chase but none of them thought about it much. It was a blessing after all; something they should be thankful for, not ponder why.

* * *

><p>As the sound of a troop of horses neared, Morgana stepped in front of her daughters who had both by this time unsheathed their swords and stood in a battle stance, their fear lost by the need to protect themselves.<p>

Suddenly, Morgana sprung from their hiding place, directly into the path of the oncoming entourage, her sword pointing down.

"Mother," hissed Edward, but the rain battering against the trees and bushes cut off his call to her.

"Halt," ordered the head guard as he noticed the bedraggled figure in the middle of the road. The men stopped and dismounted with him, approaching the figure.

"Show yourself," ordered one of the younger men, rain dripping from him as he raised his sword.

Morgana pulled back her sodden hood and shook her heavy mane of dark hair out. She looked up at the group of two dozen knights.

"Lady Morgana?" questioned Sir Oswald, one of the oldest knights there, as if he thought he was hallucinating.

Morgana nodded and beamed in liberation. Her smile was like a million lights amongst the greyness of the day as she went into the bushes and beckoned her three astonished children out of their concealment.

"Who are they, my lady?" asked the young knight with a nod of his head.

"Gentlemen, meet my children, Arya, Edmund and Alana," introduced Morgana, indicating her offspring in turn.

"My lord, my ladies," were the murmurs that erupted from the knights as they bowed their heads.

"Spare us the false courtesies," said Morgana, not unkindly "I must speak with King Arthur immediately."

"Of course, my lady. Forgive us," apologized the head guard.

Morgana smiled to herself as she remembered just how frustrating the Knights of Camelot could be. Several of the knights offered their red cloaks, eager to please. Morgana didn't refuse them, grateful for the warmth they brought and the comfort of the gold Pendragon emblem. Her children each accepted one and thanked their givers politely, clearly remembering their lessons.

With no spare horses, and quite frankly, not enough energy to ride; each of them climbed on a horse with one of the knights, who felt very privileged for the opportunity. No-one bothered to ask questions about the children or Morgana as they rode back towards Camelot at top speed.

Morgana smiled at each of her children in turn. They were finally safe. All she needed to do was see Arthur and tell him everything. Her excitement grew as the prospect of seeing him drew ever closer. There was no trace of her previous pessimistic state and as the rain and wind tugged at her hair, she found nothing could take the smile off her face. She felt exhilarated for the first time since Uther had forced her into her hellish marriage to King Lot.


	10. A Safe Haven

A/N - So to make up for my lack of updates, here is a second chapter in two days. You lucky people :D Enjoy and please leave a review. There is lots of ArMor in this chapter because they are awesome ;) (They are not related in this fic)**  
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><p><strong>10) A Safe Haven<br>**

A silvery moon shone in the black sky, making the forest seem surreal. The Pendragon banner soared proud at the top of the castle. The air was cool and crisp, but the rain had at long last ceased its relentless torrent.

The knights' pace had increased as midnight came and went. Morgana looked at her once home and the banner made her think of Arthur. Her children had all slumped against their riding partner and fallen asleep; their treacherous journey had taken its toll on them. She couldn't sleep, the prospect of being reunited with Arthur keeping her mind far too active.

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><p>After several hours of riding, the gates of Camelot were before them. The head knight, Sir Benzene, gave a brief account of what had happened and two of the gate guards disappeared to fetch the king while the party rode into the silent courtyard, the horses' hooves reverberating.<p>

The knights aided them off the horses, and Morgana clasped Alana and Arya's hands, Edmund walking beside them, tall and as proud as a knight. The corridors were familiar to Morgana and even after years of being away, she knew the way to the council chambers. But, the knights encased them all as they led the way.

When they reached the council chambers, Morgana got a shock. Instead of the usual table, or the one she remembered, there was a huge stone table, round in shape with seats around the outside.

"That's fantastic, mother," said Edmund, indicating the table, now that they were able to have a look around.

"It is, isn't it," responded Morgana as she moved to examine it closer.

"What does it mean?" he asked.

Before Morgana could answer with her best theory, Alana spoke. "It symbolises equality. No man is more important than the other. There is no place in the circle which is better."

"How do you know that?" asked Morgana with a fond smile.

"I read about it in some of the history books in the library," answered Alana, suddenly shy over all the attention from her family and all the knights in the room.

* * *

><p>"I see you're admiring our round table," came a loud voice as the others opened and closed again.<p>

"Arthur," said Morgana, whirling around.

"Morgana," he said, as he advanced towards them, a large gold crown on his head.

She fought the urge to run to him, and instead waited until he was beside her. Then, she embraced him which he returned. It was like she'd found a piece of herself that she didn't know she'd lost, and now she felt strong and complete in his arms.

A few minutes later, they reluctantly pulled apart and Arthur turned to her children who didn't seem to know what to do with themselves.

"And who might you be?" he asked.

"Arya, your grace," said her eldest daughter, the most confident, stepping forward and curtseying.

"You're like family, child; no need to be so formal. Your mother certainly wasn't," he said as he lifted her up in a hug and then placed her back down, sharing a knowing smile with Morgana.

The introductions were soon over, and Arthur's smile slowly faded until his kingly mask was in place.

"What brings you this far alone, Morgana? What's happened?" he asked.

Morgana shook her head and motioned to the children. She didn't want to tell her offspring all of the horrors she'd endured since she was wed. Not that she particularly wanted to tell Arthur. But she would need to if he was to protect them all.

"Children, your travels have left you weary, I'm sure," said Arthur "Merlin!"

"Yes, sire," responded the advisor.

For the first time, Morgana took a look at her friend. He no longer donned his servants' attire. Arthur had obviously promoted him. She was glad. He deserved it.

"Please escort the Lady Morgana's children to the guest chambers. Have one prepared next door for Morgana. I shall sort something better tomorrow," explained Arthur, not in the pompous commanding way he used to order those lower than him "Leave us!"

The knights removed themselves from the chambers, most probably retiring for the night after their journey back. Merlin left with her tired children after she dropped a kiss on each of their foreheads in turn, smiling at Merlin. Sleep seemed very promising, but she had to talk to Arthur first.

"Come, Morgana, sit," said Arthur, taking a seat at the round table.

Morgana sat on his right as he poured some wine from a pitcher and handed her a goblet, before pouring another for himself.

"Morgana, what's happened?" he asked.

Morgana looked at his face; hardened by the responsibility of the kingdom. His eyes were filled with concern. She cast her eyes down on to her lap, clutching the goblet tightly in her hand, yet to sip it. She didn't know where to begin.

Arthur looked at the woman he loved like a sister and felt nothing but worry at her quiet state. It was so unlike the feisty, confident girl he knew before she was betrothed. He placed two fingers under her chin and gently raised her head, forcing him to look at her. Her face was damp from the rain and her eyelids held occasional droplets of water. She was still so beautiful, even though her smile was weak. Suddenly, his eyes fell upon a mark on her cheek; a pale purple covering half of her pale skin. He traced a finger over it. He didn't fail to notice the flinch as he did so.

"Did Lot do that to you?" asked Arthur, as he dropped his hand, anger bubbling within him.

"It is fine, Arthur," protested Morgana, feebly.

"Morgana, that time when we were in the forest; me, you and Merlin, you told me what Lot did. Did he … do it again?"

"No, I… I didn't fight against it. There's no point fighting a losing battle. And, he threatened Arya's life, and then Edmund's and Alana's. I did what I had to do."

"I'm so sorry, Morgana. I never should have left that night."

"You were only doing what I asked you to. Do you really expect that your father would welcome me back? He would send me back with some nonsense about marriage being a commitment, witnessed by god."

Arthur was shocked by Morgana's bitterness but he knew her point was valid. Camelot had always come first with his father, and he would have sacrificed her for the kingdom if war was threatened again. If they'd stayed, Morgana would probably be dead for escaping. She was so strong. Most of his men wouldn't survive all that and still keep fighting.

"You're safe here, Morgana. I swear it. You and your dear children will always have a place here," declared Arthur.

For the first time, Morgana smiled. "Thank you."

"Come now, my lady," he said, assisting her in rising "I shall escort you to your chambers for the night. We shall sort something better in the morning."

Arm-in-arm, Arthur led Morgana through the quiet castle. The guards at their posts bowed as they passed, a few looking shocked at the sight of Morgana.

* * *

><p>When they reached the guest chambers, Arthur ushered her in and followed. Morgana locked the door, feeling safer knowing that no-one could enter. He stood in front of the door as she unsheathed her sword and placed it just beside her bed, in easy reach should someone intrude. Arthur's heart broke at the measures she took to make herself feel safe; even though she was safe with him in Camelot. Lot would never get to her again. The worst thing was that she did it subconsciously.<p>

Respectfully, Arthur turned his back as she removed her ruined dress and mud-coated shoes, changing into a plain white nightgown. He turned back around when she was brushing her matted dark hair before she gave up on it. The nightgown was duller than she had ever worn before, but she didn't seem to mind. And Arthur was transfixed by her beauty, even in her somewhat bedraggled state.

Without another word, Morgana climbed into the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin, relishing in the softness of the bed after so many nights camping rough, if you could call it camping. Her eyes closed and she let out a contended sigh.

Arthur smiled at her peaceful form and moved to the doors, his hand hovering on the bolt as he heard her voice "Stay with me, Arthur, please."

"Of course," he accepted.

Preparing himself for an uncomfortable night, he pulled a chair over to Morgana's bedside and settled into it.

"Arthur, you are welcome to come in the bed," said Morgana with one of her smirks that he'd missed so much.

"It wouldn't be proper," he declined, although it was very tempting.

"It's there if you change your mind."

"I'm sure I won't."

She fell asleep within minutes. Arthur admired her. She looked like an angel sent from heaven. He'd missed her; much more than he'd let on. It was good to have her back where he could protect her and keep her and her children contented. They deserved that.


	11. Fury

A/N - So, here's the next chapter. I would be so, so grateful for reviews. Since I started re-uploading and I know it was months, no-one has reviewed. Has everyone lost interest? I don't know if I should continue or not. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter.**  
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><p><strong>11) Fury<strong>

There was several loud knocks on the door and Arthur woke up immediately. He looked at the bed and saw that Morgana was sleeping soundly, one hand up by her face. Arthur smiled at the sight and hurried over to the door, being as quiet as possible so that he did not wake her. She was exhausted after everything she'd endured.

"Sire," said the guard at the door "You are needed in the council chambers, immediately."

Arthur sighed and nodded, gesturing for the guard to leave. He went over to Morgana and brushed a strand of hair off her forehead before placing a gentle kiss on her temple. She mumbled in her sleep and turned over but did not wake.

Hand on the hilt of his sword; he left her chambers, assigning a guard just to be safe. He couldn't lose her again.

The council chambers were buzzing when he arrived. He looked around and spotted his faithful manservant waiting along with the Knights of the Round Table.

"Arthur," said Merlin as the king strode towards the table.

"What's going on, Merlin?" asked Arthur as he took his place.

Upon seeing his arrival, Sir Kai and Sir Raymond came forward, a girl no more than fifteen between them. Her clothes were torn and stained and her blonde hair was dirty and hung in clumps around her face.

"Who's this?" asked Arthur as he moved to the young girl.

"Sire, we found her wandering the courtyard. She told us she needed to speak with you," answered Sir Kai.

Arthur looked at the girl before beckoning her forward. She looked like she'd been in a war. The girl looked down nervously and started to shiver slightly. There was no denying that she was terrified.

"Merlin, can you fetch a change of clothes and a decent meal," ordered Arthur "The rest of you leave us."

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><p>Once they were alone, Arthur crouched down to the height of the girl.<p>

"What's your name, child?" he asked.

"Evie, your grace," said the girl, curtsying.

"You may call me Arthur. Now, you don't have to be afraid. Just tell me what happened."

"My village… An army came, sire. I woke up to screaming and…and burning. My family, I couldn't find them. I escaped through a window and I ran. Everywhere, the whole village was on fire and the soldiers were killing everyone. They chased me, sire. I…I thought I was going to die, too."

"You're safe here, Evie, I give you my word. What happened next?"

"The king, he caught me. I was the only one left. They murdered everyone else, my family, my friends… He gave me a letter and told me to give it to you. I ran, sire. I don't know who he was."

When she'd finished, she handed a letter to Arthur. He examined the unbroken seal; a black snake: Lot. He slipped his finger through to break it and unfolded the crumpled letter. Evie stood to the side as he read it quickly.

At that moment, Merlin rushed back in and handed Evie one of Gwen's lavender dresses. A trio of maids followed him and with Arthur's command took the young girl to guest chambers and arranged for a bath and a hot meal to be brought up.

"Arthur, what's the letter about?" asked Merlin, seeing it clutched in his hand for the first time.

"It's Lot," replied Arthur "He says that unless I return Morgana and her children, then he will declare war on Camelot."

"You're not going to give them back, are you?"

"No, of course not, Merlin. Morgana, she's… I will not let him hurt them again. No, Lot's gone too far."

"So you plan on going to war?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm planning to do. He burned one of Camelot's villages, which alone breaches our alliance."

Arthur crumpled the letter in his hand and let it fall to the stone floor before leaving the chambers and summoning his most trusted knights. He had a war to prepare for.

* * *

><p>Morgana awoke alone in her bed. She guessed it was around midday from the sun that filtered in through the gap in the curtains. The sleep had been the most restful she'd had in years, ever since she was shipped away to become Lot's bride in fact. For once, no nightmares had plagued her and she'd dreamt of happier times; times when she and Arthur were free to spar and climb and run.<p>

Deciding that she had lain for too long, Morgana got out and went over to the basin, splashing cool water on her face to waken her up. She went over to the wardrobe and rummaged through. Eventually, she found a blue gown which looked her size and slipped it on before brushing her hair and braiding it tightly.

"My lady," said a guard at the door, bowing as she exited.

"Where is Arthur? I wish to speak with him," said Morgana.

"My lady… The king is in a council meeting. He does not wish to be disturbed by anyone."

"And what is this session on, sir?"

"His grace said you were not to be worried by it."

"What could be so important that he does not want to be disturbed or that he doesn't want me to find out about it?"

"My lady, I am instructed to keep you here until his liege returns. I will fetch you anything you need that is within my power…"

Morgana couldn't be bothered with the ramblings of the guard and swiftly pushed him out of the way and tore off down the corridor, her shoes clicking rhythmically off the stone. Guards and servants alike stared at her in confusion but no-one tried to stop her.

When she reached the council chambers, she found the doors unguarded. She pushed them open and stepped in, skirts trailing behind her. The occupants of the room all drew their swords until they saw who it was and sheathed them again.

"Morgana," said Arthur "What on earth are you doing here?"

"Well, I have to find out some way. What's going on?"

"Morgana, this is no place for you. Go and rest. I'll visit you when we are finished here."

"You're going to war, aren't you?"

There was a deafening silence as everyone shifted under her penetrating gaze.

"You are aren't you?"

"Morgana, I need to protect you and your children. If that means war…"

"I'm not going to let thousands of people die for me and even more lose their homes, their livelihoods. It's me Lot wants. So I'll go back to him."

"You will not. You mean too much to be Lot's toy to be played with when he desires and then tossed away. You deserve better than that."

"Arthur, your concern is touching. I couldn't be more grateful. But I'd rather be with Lot than innocents die because of me."

"He'll execute you, Morgana. You've defied him. You think he'll just let it go."

"He won't kill me or he'll know you'll start a war."

"Ok, so he'll torture you instead. He'll lock you in a dungeon when he feels like it."

Morgana was fast running out of excuses and she tried desperately to think of a reason that would make Arthur see that war wasn't a good idea.

"I can't fight on two fronts, Morgana. Please, just accept it," said Arthur, gently.

"I need to sacrifice myself for the people. You would do the same."

"You are not leaving this castle until the war is over. Don't make me lock you in your chambers," threatened Arthur.

"You're as stubborn as a mule," responded Morgana with a smile.

"As are you."

"I will stay here, Arthur, if you promise to keep me updated with the war. I have as much a right to know as anyone of you. But the children cannot know."

"Of course, Morgana. Now, go be with them. I will come to you as soon as possible."

She beamed at him and then at Merlin who stood behind the young king and nodded her heads to the people in the room before taking her leave.


	12. Premonition

A/N - So, here's the next chapter :D I actually really enjoyed writing this chapter. I don't know why, it's quite dark actually :/ Anyway, thanks to all reviews and please keep them coming because they truly inspire me to write more faster. Enjoy! **  
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><p><strong>12) Premonition<strong>

"Sire, Lot's army has gathered outside the city walls," said Sir Leon.

Arthur was observing last minute siege preparations when one of his most trusted knights entered. He nodded slowly. This was it. He had to win this, for Morgana's sake. A sudden urge to see her had him heading further into the castle rather than into the battle as he should be doing.

"Enter," said Morgana in a sing-song voice, no hint of worry for the war in her tone.

Arthur was already halfway through and was surprised to see her dressed in her battle armour; not the fashionable one she'd had as a teenager, a more practical one. It was as if she was going out to fight. Then, he spotted the three children in the antechamber. Edmund was dressed in the traditional armour of the knights and Alana was assisting Arya in putting on her own version, hair twisted up in a bun and sword at her hip. Alana herself was in breeches and a tunic, hair braided neatly.

"Morgana, why are you wearing that?" asked Arthur, pointing to her armour.

"It's a war, Arthur. Was I supposed to wear a silk dress?" replied Morgana with a smile.

"You're not fighting, Morgana. I can't lose you again."

"I won't fight… unless I have to. But, don't expect me to sit back and do nothing if something happens."

"They're trained knights, Morgana; they'll cut you to ribbons, armour or no armour."

"You underestimate me, Arthur. I'm more than a match for any knight."

Arthur rolled his eyes at her and she smirked. She looked happier, even though the war was about to start. She looked livelier than he'd seen her in a long time; her spark was back.

"Be, careful, Morgana…please."

"I will," she agreed.

"Edward, Arya, why are you dressed for battle?" asked Arthur.

"I'm a knight, Arthur. I was always meant to fight to protect the weak and help those in need," answered Edward, proudly.

He was tall for his age; his black hair tousled and his blue eyes filled with determination. He was so brave for such a young boy. He would make a fantastic knight when he came of age.

"You're too young. There will be time enough to become a knight. The most you will be doing is running messages; where it is safe. And once the war is over; we will train you to be a proper Knight of Camelot."

"But…"

"Arya, you are most definitely not fighting. You've not had sufficient battle training."

"I can fight," said Arya, indignantly, folding her arms across her chest.

"But not well enough for a battle. There will be no time for you to be rescued should harm befall you. The battlefield is no place for you."

"I want to make him pay for what he's done; done to all of us."

"I'll take care of that, child. You will be with your mother and Alana; helping the wounded, keeping the nobles calm, reassuring the children…"

Arya made a face at that and Arthur laughed, ruffling her hair, causing strands to fall out of her bun and frame her face. He turned to Alana, who looked rather relieved, and dropped a kiss on her forehead.

"Stay safe, Arthur," said Morgana as he moved to leave.

"I will," he repeated her words with a smile.

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><p>Morgana had finished cleaning a young knight's wound and was in the process of dressing it. She felt helpless dressing wounds when there were men dying, maybe even Arthur. She pushed the thought from her mind; he would not die. The walls of the infirmary were suffocating her and she had every need to leave. But she couldn't abandon her patient.<p>

"Thank you, my lady," he said when she had eventually finished.

She nodded her head in confirmation as he got up and headed back to the battle. Even after the deep gash on his arm; he was returning to the fighting; returning to his death.

After she had checked her daughters were occupied and her son was in deep conversation with Gaius, she headed for the nearest door, slipping out unnoticed. The corridors were empty and her footsteps resounded around her. Most guards were guarding the nobles and the infirmary or fighting, the odd few patrolling the lower town to prevent any trouble that might arise.

Once she reached the keep's battlements and felt the cold, night air on her face she instantly felt better, for a moment at least. The shouts of both armies carried on the wind as did the screams and pleas of the dying and the wounded. Red flames crackled below, growing as flaming arrows came flying over the walls. Swords clanged and the battering rams pounded the gates. Camelot was built to withstand a siege; but it could only go on so long. There was no sign of Arthur; well, she could distinguish anyone. All she could see amongst the fire and the blood and the smoke was billowing red cloaks emblazoned with the gold dragon.

Having surveyed the raging battle, she headed back to her chambers. She was in no mood to face anyone right now. She had to think, clear her head; and she couldn't do that with the terrified cries of children and woman. Her bed called her as soon as she entered and she lay down on top of the covers; the faint sounds of the battle reaching her even here. She listened and thought; prayed for the dead to be at peace and prayed for Arthur to be alive and well. She didn't know who she prayed to; the gods had never helped her before, why should they now? She had to protect him herself. It was her fault Lot's army were here after all.

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><p><em>The stones were stained with blood and littered with the bodies of the fallen; red cloaks and black cloaks both. Crows flew around the battlefield, perching on the lifeless; omens of death. <em>

_There was still a fight going on; steel against steel ringing through the dark silence. Then, the blonde haired man was knocked to the ground and Lot raised a dagger high before plunging it down into his chest; into his heart. _

_Darkness. _

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><p>Morgana screamed and shot up; breathing laboured and a film of cold sweat on her skin. Her armour felt constricting and she rushed to her window, flinging it open to breathe. It didn't help as she felt like a hand was squeezing around her throat, stopping her breathing. She tried to slow it down but her heart pounded against her rib cage; loud enough that she believed anyone nearby would hear it.<p>

"Arthur," she whispered, terrified.


	13. Warning

A/N - So, this is an incredibly short chapter but I wanted to upload it tonight in celebration of Katie winning Anglo Fan Favourites: Woman of the Year 2012. I'm so proud of her :D Anyway, hope you enjoy and please comment. They mean so much to me.

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><p><strong>13) Warning<strong>

Morgana was running down the corridor, the icy wind whipping around her. She had to go to Arthur and warn him. It might publically expose her as a seer, but she couldn't worry for herself now. Besides, Arthur wasn't like Lot, he would accept her. He cared for her. He was the first person too. She wouldn't let him die; no matter what the cost was.

The nightmare haunted her as she raced down the stairs two at a time; images of Arthur's still, lifeless form lying in a pool of blood firmly implanted in her mind.

In the courtyard, the sounds she had heard from her window were amplified and the smell of burning flesh invaded her nostrils, choking her. She pushed the dizzying worry away and unsheathed her sword before heading forward into the heat of the battle without looking back.

Morgana pushed through the mass of men; stabbing and slashing and sometimes even kicking and punching mercilessly. Blood stained her sword but the steel still glinted dangerously in the brightness of the roaring fires as buildings went up in flames all around her. Her head was in a spin as she thought only of Arthur; the image of him lying as his life seeped away propelling her forward. She was lethal as she fought, blinkered. Every man was just an obstacle in saving Arthur and she cut them all down, their screams failing to remove her from her blind determination.

"Morgana," shouted someone over the deafening sounds of the battle, closely followed by the scream of a dying man.

She spun around with her sword at the ready, only to realise who it was that she was about to attack.

"Arthur," she exclaimed in relief as she lowered her sword.

"What the hell are you doing, Morgana?"

"I had to find you. I had a dream… a nightmare."

"You're going to get yourself killed. Go back inside and help with the wounded or go and keep people's spirits up. You were always good at that. But just go back into the castle. It's too dangerous out here."

"You're out here."

"I'm a trained warrior, Morgana, and the king. You are not."

"You underestimate me, Arthur. I've made it this far unscathed. I'm more than a match for any of Lot's pathetic knights."

"Morgana…"

"I didn't come all the way out here to argue with you, Arthur. You don't understand. It's Lot… he's going to kill you. I saw it. You have to come back."

"It was just a dream; a horrible one. I'm safe. Please, go inside with the other women and children."

"No! I'm not leaving you to die. You have to believe me. You cannot fight him."

"Morgana, listen to me. It was a dream, nothing more. Now go back into side where it's safe or I'll have you put under constant guard until the fighting is done."

"Why won't you listen to me?"

"Please, Morgana, be safe. I'll see you soon and when I do, Lot will be dead and out of your life forever. Then you and the children will be free. Now, go."

Sighing in frustration, she turned and made to head back to the safety of the castle until he was satisfied and turned back to the fight again. She slipped unnoticed into a narrow alley and ran to the other side. If Arthur wasn't going to believe her, she would have to find and kill Lot first.


	14. Confrontation

A/N - Thanks for all the reviews :D Please keep them coming and I'll update faster. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! This is actually nearly at an end but I'm so grateful for all of the support. There's only a couple of chapters left... Enjoy!

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><p><strong>14) Confrontation<strong>

It was darker here in the alleyways but the faraway amber glow gave her enough light to see by. Morgana moved as silent as a shadow, constantly on guard for a surprise attack. None came. In fact, the backstreets were deserted, the people long since fled and no warriors seeing the need to enter the labyrinth. It was, after all, exceptionally easy to get lost, especially in the dark. But, Morgana had escaped down them many times to get out of the city as a child when she sought peace and quiet away from her duties. She had her duty now: find and kill Lot.

It shouldn't be too hard. In the many torturous years spent as his wife, she had picked up on many of his tactics without him ever finding out. She had always done it just to feel she had some sort of defence in place and she was glad she had now. One of the most prominent things she had uncovered whilst pregnant with Arya was his tendency to always stay at the back of the battle; out of harm's way – unlike Arthur. She hoped he'd kept his cowardly ideals since her escape.

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><p>Morgana came to a small gate leading out of the city. It was unknown to many of the knights and almost all of the guards, making it the ideal way to sneak out. She hoped that the same still held true or she would have to fight her way through the masses of men and hope to remain uninjured, all the while remaining undetected by Arthur or he would place her under house arrest.<p>

Fortunately, after several hard pushes, the rusted gate creaked open. Morgana was thankful that the battle was so loud or someone would surely have heard it. In the years since she had last used it; it seemed no-one else had.

She ducked her head and went through the small space, wasting no more time. It led to a narrow and low tunnel which forced her to crawl along blindly, susceptible to attack. Morgana was confident that she would be relatively safe until she was out amongst the knights of Lot's army who would recognise her and capture her; or maybe even kill her there and then. She was safe in the tunnel; even Arthur hadn't known of her secret passage and a grown man clad in a full suit of armour had no hope of fitting through.

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><p>On the other side, Morgana stood and brandished her sword. The battle was deafening; a blur of fire and blood and steel. She tightened her grip on the hilt, feeling more vulnerable than before. There was something about the ruthlessness of the invading army. She feared for Arthur. She feared for herself. She feared for Camelot, because if Lot succeeded, the kingdom would surely fall. He was a crueller tyrant than Uther could have hoped to be, and that was saying something. She focused her mind solely on seeking out Lot. Her path was relatively clear aside from the disturbingly disfigured bodies of the dead and dying. There were splatters of blood on her shoes and armour and it made her feel sick and guilty for the battle was for her.<p>

Morgana only just managed to supress a scream when she felt something touch her leg. She looked down to see a ghostly white hand, streaked with red, fingers flexing in an attempt to draw her attention.

"Help," wheezed the man.

The fire allowed her to see him more clearly. He was young; no more than twenty – far too young to die. There was one long gash running from his forehead to his chin, deep and bleeding heavily. His nose was broken and his lip burst open in several places. Looking more closely, she saw a dagger impaled in his leg. It was directly on an artery. There was nothing she could do to save him even if she had medical equipment and she certainly couldn't carry him made to the infirmary.

"I'm sorry," she said to the dying Knight of Camelot with genuine regret.

His hand slipped from her leg and he let out a pained cough, blood coming up with it, his last hope gone. She turned away and sidestepped over his fallen comrade. There was no time to waste on the dead. She could not linger. She had to save those who still had a chance or Camelot would surely fall.

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><p>Morgana saw it a mile off. She saw the glittering gold of Lot's crown lustrous in the fires. She breathed deeply and immediately started to cough, the smoke burning her throat. A drink of water would have been great, but she didn't have one and there was no access to one. <em>Pull yourself together<em>, she chided herself, _Men are dying all around you and you're thinking of having a drink_. Preparing for the worst case scenario, Morgana checked her daggers to make sure they were in place and then twirled her sword; the movement making her feel a lot more assured than she thought she should be. This was it. Life or death. Win or lose. Him or her. Why was she not nervous?

With a long stride, she headed to Lot. She stayed out of his line of sight although she doubted he would recognize her anyway. He'd been very much like Uther in the sense of dressing her up in rich, corseted gowns and expensive jewellery. She must look a right state just now; blood and mud coating her skin and armour, hair half up and the rest falling out. She liked it that way. You couldn't defend yourself easily in one of those damn dresses.

"Lot," said Morgana, coldly.

The King of Essetir spun around from surveying the battle and clapped eyes on her. He looked taken aback by her rough appearance, just like she had expected him to but then a repulsive smile spread across his face as she advanced towards her.

"Have you finally seen sense, my dear?" he asked.

"Leave here, Lot. Leave and never come back," declared Morgana.

"Uther Pendragon promised you to me. Go and get our children and we will leave here. Your precious Camelot will be safe."

"I'd rather stick pins in my eyes than go with you."

"I could do that for you."

"I'll give you one last chance, a chance that you don't even deserve. Leave now."

"You're nothing but a useless wench. You don't tell me what to do. You do not threaten me."

Lot lunged at her with his sword but she easily jumped out of the way, getting into fighting stance. He done the same and the pair circled each other, swords drawn, looking for a moment of weakness in their opponent's defences.

"You don't know anything about me," retorted Morgana.

"I know that you've taken my heir and my daughters," continued Lot with an icy glare.

"The children you locked in your dungeons are not your children. They are mine and mine alone. I'm going to protect them from people like you; something you can never hope to do."

"When I take this city, I'm going to have you begging for mercy. And my daughters are going to a convent to become proper ladies suitable for marrying off. I shall teach Edmund the ways of a king myself."

"Not a chance. Arthur will win this war because you're a coward. And you'll send my children no-where. I birthed them, I raised them, I love them. You don't understand love."

"I'm going to have your head on a spike for your precious children to see!"

"First, you've got to kill me."

Lot lunged for her again and she parried quickly before launching her own attack; driving him backwards.

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><p>"MORGANA!" shouted Arthur from behind as he approached.<p>

The two combatants ceased their swordfight to face him. He looked livid; his skin tone not far off the colour of the blood crusted on his forehead.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked.


	15. Fight to the Death

A/N - Here's the next installment and I really hope it's up to your standards. This has been in the makings for about a week and I kept changing my mind but I'm relatively happy with it now. I hope you all feel the same. As always, please review. I love hearing your opinions and it motivates me. Thanks and I hope you all enjoy this xxx

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><p><strong>15) Fight to the Death<strong>

"Arthur!" exclaimed Morgana, sighing in relief although she quickly turned back to face Lot, wary of any surprise attacks on his part.

"I thought I told you to go back into the castle," said Arthur.

"I had a dream. I had to stop it," she replied, indignantly.

"Dreams don't come true, Morgana," responded Arthur, softening his tone slightly.

"Mine do!"

"You're a witch," stated Lot in disgust.

Arthur turned his attention from Morgana to look at the other king, his eyes burning into the other man's back.

"Don't you ever, _ever_ call her that," threatened Arthur.

"She's a filthy witch as well as a wretched shrew. I should have killed her when I had the chance," retorted Lot as both Morgana and Arthur glared daggers at him.

Arthur flew for him, driving him backwards with the heavy weight of his sword. Each blow was powerful and Lot clearly struggled against him although he appeared to get stronger. Morgana stood out of range as she looked on in worry. The dream still haunted her. This scene seemed so familiar, as if it had already taken place. She had a heavy feeling of dread in her body. There was nothing she could do though as the fight became a lot more violent and both men received small cuts which were brushed off. Lot was getting stronger as Arthur was growing more fatigued.

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><p>Morgana jumped at the sound of a shrill, pained scream. She looked around for the source before realizing that it was her own scream. Arthur collapsed on the ground in front of her; Lot's sword plunged into his abdomen. Her former husband smirked at her as he drew his blood-covered sword.<p>

"Are you next, sweetheart?" he asked, proud at his conquest.

Morgana lost it. She didn't even sheath her sword as she jumped on top of Lot, making him lose his footing and his grip on his sword. She was on his chest, pummelling him with as much power as she could. A glance to the side was the exact same image as in her vision. She hadn't been able to prevent it and now Arthur's life was leaving him.

Once the initial shock had worn off, Lot flipped her onto her back and straddled her. Morgana felt a wave of despair wash through her as she realised just how vulnerable she was now. There was no one even close to protect her and her sword was miles away. And every second that passed was another second closer to Arthur's death. And she may as well have swung the sword herself for it was her fault that Lot was involved in him at all.

"Aren't you going to beg for mercy, my dear?" taunted Lot.

"Go to hell," retorted Morgana, emphasizing each of the three words.

The words were met by a sharp backhand on her cheek and Morgana instantly retaliated by kneeing the man in the groin. He groaned and she used his moment of weakness to push him off, rolling away and trying to stand up while desperately fumbling for the hilt of her sword.

Before she could get her weapon again, Lot was on top of her again pinning one of her wrists above her head as she struggled wildly, trashing, thinking of Arthur dying. He was oblivious to their fight but she knew she had to win for him. She had to at least make his sacrifice worthwhile if she couldn't save him.

"I'm going to enjoy killing you, you little bitch," he said in a low growl.

Morgana screamed and tried to anchor herself to give herself a burst of strength but Lot wasn't allowing her any leeway. Every part of her body was trapped bar her wrist but it was useless as Lot's weight on her chest pinned her down firmly and left her breath short.

_Please Arthur, show me what to do_, pleaded Morgana in her head as she tried to think on her own.

Lot was busy gloating about how he would revel in her death at long last and how he would make sure the children suffered for her mistakes. She pushed it out of her head and thought hard. Eventually, she came up with a plan.

The king of Essetir obviously thought she had given up the fight and was accepting death at his hands because he was lost in his sadistic mocking and plans. She raised her free hand to her pinned wrist and removed the dagger from her sleeve that Lot had failed to notice in his cockiness.

Before he could comprehend the situation, she brought the dagger crashing down into his back. He rolled off her and she stabbed him in the abdomen. His eyes were wide with disbelief and she stood up and smirked down upon him. She shouldn't take so much satisfacftion in death but she did. It felt so good to be finally free.

"Edmund shall rule Essetir and the people will rejoice at your death. We will be hailed as the ones who murdered the tyrant. The people will dance on your grave and celebrate your death anniversary."

"You…will…pay," he stuttered between coughing up blood.

"But not at your hand!"

With that, Morgana brought the dagger down again and again, all over his chest. He was long dead but she kept going, screaming in anger as blood splashed onto her clothes and her face; warm and sticky.

When she was exhausted, the dagger slipped from her bloody fingers and she rushed to her foster brother's side, desperately searching for his pulse. It was so very weak but with a healer's talent she managed to find it. She may have a talent for healing but this wound need Gaius or a professional physician. Even then the chances were slim. And the castle was miles away and she couldn't move him.

The death of his murderer did not ease the pain as she wept and screamed alternately. She clutched his hands tightly, squeezing as hard as she could and she shook him but he would not open his eyes. The tears cascaded down her cheeks as her milky skin was drowned in crimson blood; his blood, Lot's blood, everyone's blood. It was all on her hands. She screamed loudly in anguish and anger and helplessness and sorrow. The screams were enough to chill anyone to the bone and the haunting melody filled the sky. Yet, no-one came. And Morgana cradled Arthur as the fighting raged on, oblivious to the nearing death of the king, her king, oblivious to her need for help.


	16. Attack

A/N - This is just a short update before my injection tomorrow. I hope you like it. There's two endings I have thought for this story; a tragic one or a happy one. I'm not sure which yet. You're welcome to let me know which you prefer but I might go the opposite direction. Please read and review. It means a lot. I hope the next chapter will be up by the end of the week :D Enjoy!

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><p><strong>16) Attack <strong>

Morgana continued screaming long after her throat grew hoarse. Why was no-one coming to her aid? Why was fate so cruel? Someone did come though; one of Lot's high ranking lords, come to avenge their king no doubt. He looked dangerous with his untamed matted beard and long lanky hair, flail held firmly in one hand, sword strapped to his hip.

"You slew my king, wench," hissed the knight.

The grieving women raised her eyes to look at him. He was clearly surprised by their vacant expression; the sea green orbs glassy with tears. He'd obviously expected more of someone capable of murdering a king.

"Leave me," commanded Morgana, her voice catching at the end.

"I am Lord William, the king's first in command. With his grace dead, it falls to me to exact his vengeance," responded the knight with a calculating iciness.

His eyes rested on the ground behind her where King Arthur lay in a pool of his own blood. A cruel smile lit up his face until he saw the faint rise and fall of the king's chest. His hard features hardened even further as he drew a dagger from his belt.

Before he could take another step, Morgana rose with agility and raised her sword. She blinked back the tears and took a deep, steadying breath. No-one was going to kill Arthur while she still breathed.

"Step aside, girl," said William with an underlying mocking tone.

Morgana did not reply. She was in no mood to play petty games while Arthur lay dying, in urgent need of medical attention. The only person she ever bantered with was him, and she certainly was not going to with this lord.

Suddenly, there was a rush of air as he swung his spiked flail at her head. She barely managed to duck the blow which would surely have killed her there and then. His weapon was much more dangerous than it would have been had he used a sword. Morgana was only slightly skilled in using a flail but even if she had been an expert, he had the advantage. Each blow he rained down on her was counteracted with great effort. Her sword met his but barely. One wrong move and both she and Arthur would be dead.

Morgana was so caught up in exhaustion from the night of vigorous fighting that all her attention was focused on ducking and dodging from the oncoming flail that she failed to notice that Lord William had removed the dagger from his belt.

When she did realise, it was too late. He threw the dagger straight at her. She ducked as fast as she could but the dagger slashed her across her forehead. Morgana bit down hard on her lip to prevent a scream from escaping as a blinding pain spread across her head. She could feel her blood dripping from the wound and stumbled backwards before standing up straight again, brandishing her sword.

"Give it up or you'll get hurt," threatened William.

Morgana couldn't reply even if she wanted to. She felt like she was about to drop from fatigue and now she had the slash on her forehead. There was no way she'd be able to hold out for much longer. But she had to protect Arthur, the boy she was as close to as any brother could be and her king.

William laughed as she danced around his flail as the spikes threatened to impale her as she barely managed to dodge them each time. She clutched her sword by her side but no longer used it to deliver blows. It was wasting her energy. The blood dripped into her eyes, almost blinding her, turning everything blurred by blood stains.

With a menacing look, the lord succeeded in striking a blow to her ribs with his flail. Morgana screamed as her ribs exploded with fire and she collapsed beside Arthur. Her sword was swiftly kicked from her weak grip and she forced herself to keep her eyes open. She was going to die now. There was no way out. She had failed to protect Arthur.


	17. Vigil

A/N - Sorry this chapter is a bit late but I was out at a Chinese buffet (yum!) with my friends and then I had Biology homework to do (meh!) Anyway, thank you so, so much for the reviews especially but also the follows/favourites. Please drop a review to let me know you're there and enjoying this :D I hope to finish this soon, definitely before the premiere if I can. Thank you for being so loyal! Enjoy xxx

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><p><strong>17) Vigil<strong>

"My lady," said a distant voice.  
>Morgana groaned and fluttered her eyes open before squeezing them shut again. The incredibly infuriating voice penetrated her mind, louder this time. All she could manage was a groggy mumble in response.<br>"My lady, you have to wake up!"  
>And she did. With immense difficulty, she opened her eyes and the fires and the death swam into her vision once more.<br>"Arthur!" she said as everything came flooding back to her, a feeling of dread building inside her. She would rather still be asleep.  
>Wide awake now, she flung herself into a sitting position before crying out in pain and then biting her lip to stifle the sound. Despite the excruciating pain, she tried to twist her body around to locate Arthur.<br>"Where is he? Where's Arthur? WHERE IS HE?" she screamed, each word causing an almost unbearable agony to spread through her chest.  
>"My lady, you must calm down. You need to get to Gaius. You're badly wounded," said the male's gruff voice.<br>Morgana looked up at him, seeing him for the first time and decided that she didn't know him. He just looked like an average knight; but a knight of Camelot all the same. That was something at least.  
>"I'm fine," she forced out with gritted teeth "How is...?"<br>"The king is with Gaius, my lady. I do not know much else. The physician requested that you be brought to him immediately but Sir Allotter and I were only able to take his grace. It was with deep regret that…"  
>"There's no need to apologize. You did the right think, sir."<br>The knight bent down and gathered her in his arms, surprisingly gently for his muscular build. She didn't think she reacted too much to the waves of pain that coursed through her ribs but the knight was looking upon her in pity so she guessed she must have.

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><p>Morgana blinked against the blinding sunlight until her eyes became accustomed to the sudden light. She was about to go to sleep; her body seemed to be telling her to judging by her drooping eyelids and non-responding muscles. But there was something on her mind. It was hazy but she knew it was important.<p>

There was a dull pain radiating from her ribs and it hurt too much to move. The slight movement made her head spin before she was able to focus on the pain and raised a hand, her fingers brushing a rough linen bandage, slightly wet in the middle.

If there was one thing she didn't like, it was confusion. So, Morgana ever-so-slowly rolled over in bed and placed her bare feet on the stone cold floor. Steadying herself against the bed post, she propelled herself to her feet and took small steps to the table. There was a bowl of fruit and some water laid out which she helped herself to, staggering forward as she finished the remainder of the apple. It felt like when she and Arthur used to sneak into the wine cellars and get drunk as teenagers.

Arthur! Suddenly, everything clicked into place. Her mind became unclouded and the events of the war were as sharp as cut glass. The pain was amplified but she found herself oblivious at the same time.

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><p>When she reached Arthur's chambers, she burst in through the doors, the guard who had tried to talk sense into her about her injuries following behind, still shouting for her to slow down. Morgana ignored him and the jolt of pain in her ribs although she slowed her pace.<p>

"Mother," cried a gentle voice.

Morgana focused her blurry eyes and located her eldest daughter sitting on the floor beside Arthur's bed. Alana looked like she'd just woken up; her hair tousled and her block-splattered dress wrinkled.

"Arya, darling, are you alright? Where is your brother and sister?" questioned Morgana, frantically, forgetting about Arthur for a moment.

"I am fine, mother. Edmund is sleeping, he was with Arthur most of the night before I swapped with him," replied Arya with a smile "Alana was with you. She went out to check on the wounded. Gaius says she has quite a talent for healing."

"Thank you, dear, for being with him. How is he?" asked Morgana, anxiously, resisting the urge to bite her nails, an old habit that did not befit a lady of the court at all.

"It's an awful wound. Gaius said there is nothing more he can do for him. The sword struck deep but it didn't hit anything major. All we can do is wait."

Morgana nodded numbly is response and went to sit on the edge of the bed beside Arthur. He was so incredibly pale, the sheen of sweat covering his skin glistening in the natural light. His upper body was bare but the skin was almost invisible beneath the layers of bandages and salves covered with cloths. All were soaked with blood; half dry and half fresh.

"Gaius said he'll be back soon," said Arya, touching Morgana's shoulder comfortingly.

Morgana wiped her eye although no tears were there and looked down at Arthur. He looked like he was just sleeping but every so often he would stir in obvious discomfort before growing statue still again with only the faint rise and fall of his chest signalling that he was still alive.

"Mother, you should rest," continued Arya.

"I…I can't. Arya, sweet child, Arthur and I were so close. I can't let him die," responded Morgana, tears pricking her eyes.

"You can do nothing for him but remain well yourself. You sustained a head wound and three cracked ribs. You'll make yourself sick if you go on like this."

"You're right, Arya, of course you are. I see Alana's healing skills have rubbed off on you," said Morgana, allowing herself a smile, just to stop her daughter from worrying "You go and take a walk. I shall go back to bed soon."

"Will you, mother?" asked Arya, raising her eyebrow slightly.

"I promise, Arya," replied Morgana with a light laugh.

The young girl stood gracefully from the floor and headed for the door, quietly, not wanting to disturb the vigil.

"Arya…" Morgana stopped her.

"Yes, mother?"

"I shall dine with you and your siblings tonight. I fear the war has led me to neglect you and your needs."

"You have not, mother. I will tell them."

Morgana nodded once more and turned back to Arthur's still form. _Please wake up, Arthur_, she thought _I need you_. He couldn't just die. This was Arthur; he survived everything. And she didn't know how she'd cope if he didn't make it.


	18. Duties

A/N - So, this is a much quicker update :D I loved writing this chapter. I don't know why. The last section may not be accurate but I'm sure it doesn't matter much. Thank you for the reviews :DDD You don't know how much they make me want to write quicker. Please keep them coming. I'm so glad of the response for this story! 

Rachel xxx

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><p><strong>18) Duties<strong>

It had been a week and still Arthur did not open his eyes. Every day, Morgana had been at his bedside, holding her vigil. She'd held his hand day and night, willing him to wake up with every squeeze, even if it was just for a moment. He never did. The first thing she'd done was dismiss all the servants. She looked after him alone; cleaning his wounds, changing his dressings, giving him drops of water – except for Gaius's daily visits. He trusted her healer skills enough to leave the king in her care but he recorded his progress every evening.

With every day, hope diminished for everyone but her. The common folk no longer prayed for Arthur's recovery, now they stood in the courtyard, candles lit in commemoration, holding their own vigil. Morgana refused to give up. Her own wounds gave her grief but she refused anything else from Gaius. The second night after the battle, when she'd been at Arthur's side for a day and a night without rest and the pain was almost unbearable, Gaius had prescribed her a tonic. She'd took the sweet-smelling potion without hesitation and regretted it instantly as she felt sleep overcoming her and waking up in her own bed to realise she'd slept for almost fourteen hours. Now, she persevered with the pain and remained at Arthur's side.

* * *

><p>As she daubed at Arthur's brow which burnt to the touch with fever, there was a sharp knock on the door. She knew it must be important because she had informed everyone that she did not want to be disturbed.<p>

"Enter," she called, her eyes never straying from Arthur.

Morgana sensed someone entering and moving towards her, stopping when they were a few feet away.

"Mother," said Edmund.

At the sound of her son who was usually too busy with training to visit, she wrung the cloth out and dropped it into the bucket, standing up and brushing the dust off her skirts.

"Edmund, what brings you here?" she asked, fondly.

"The council has requested your presence," responded Edmund.

"I'm sorry, Edmund, but I cannot leave Arthur alone," replied Morgana.

"You must, mother. It is a matter of great importance. There are a troop of maids outside to continue his care. We shall not be long," persisted Edmund.

Morgana contemplated it before nodding slowly. She bent down and placed a gentle kiss on Arthur's temple, whispering that she would be back soon, before joining her son and leaving the chambers.

Sure enough, there were five maids; young and old, standing outside the door. One by one, they curtsied before entering Arthur's chambers, taking Morgana's place. This had better be important and not a means to make her stray from her watch.

* * *

><p>A herald announced her and Edmund's presence as they walked into the council chambers. Morgana was guided to the seat at the head of the table; the seat where Arthur normally sat. She was about to refuse but Gaius shook his head at her from further down the table and she obediently sat as Edmund took the seat to her right.<p>

"Lady Morgana, his grace has been suffering his wounds for a week now and shows no sign of recovery. The people grow anxious about the state of the kingdom. Should any kingdom try to attack, we are in no fit state to defend the citadel," began one of the higher lords whose name escaped her.

"With all due respect, _my lord_, King Arthur was gravely wounded defending the citadel and now you want to abandon him after his bravery and his courage. Do you forget that King Lot of Essetir is now dead?" replied Morgana with a tone that could crack ice.

"The rumours are that you were the one to slay your husband," interjected one of the men further down the table.

"You would be correct to believe that, sir, but I was only protecting the king as he protected every one of you. To give up on him is to disregard all the brave young knights who died by his side, protecting him."

"No-one gives up on him, my lady," said Gaius, gently.

"Then what would you call this?" demanded Morgana.

"While the king recovers from the wounds he sustained during battle, the kingdom remains open to attack with and out with the walls. His grace would not want Camelot to fall when he wakes," responded one of the knights.

"Then protect the city," ordered Morgana, a razor sharp edge to her voice.

"We need someone to command us, my lady. Someone to rule the kingdom in King Arthur's name," said the same lord as before.

"I don't see what this has to do with me," spoke Morgana, annoyed by this folly.

"You are the most likely candidate, Morgana," Gaius told her.

"How?"

"With King Lot of Essetir now dead; you, as his wife, are now Queen of Essetir until your son, Prince Edmund, the heir, comes of age. As former ward of Uther Pendragon and a trusted subject of King Arthur, you are first in line to become Queen Regent and rule in the king's name," explained Geoffrey of Monmouth.

"I can't. I must look after Arthur," decided Morgana after a few minutes of silence.

The council looked at each other, clearly not expecting this refusal and unsure of what to do now. There was no-one else as adequate to fit the position so easily as the Lady Morgana.

"Mother, Alana has offered to take on the role of Arthur's carer. You know she has the healer's gift. His grace could not be in better hands," Edmund tried to persuade her.

Morgana looked upon her son, seeing him in a new light now. He was no longer a boy. He may only be thirteen years of age, but he acted like a man grown. Three years from now, and he would be a king. She was Queen Regent of Essetir now, and asked to act in the position in Camelot till Arthur was strong enough. If it was only until he was able to rule again, why did she feel it was such a betrayal?

"No. It is not my place," said Morgana, resolutely.

"My lady, it's what Arthur would want," persisted one of the many nameless men.

"I don't know how to rule a kingdom!"

"You ruled Essetir," a knight pointed out.

"I didn't," responded Morgana, frustrated "Lot didn't like me to know anything of the kingdom, said politics isn't important for women to know. I spent my days sewing and singing and pleasing the king like some puppet."

"Oh, my lady, you will be a great regent. Arthur trusts you. And if our king has trust in you, we all do, too," continued Gaius.

"Ok, fine. I will become regent," relented Morgana.

After all, she would rather she ruled than some lord who would doubtless change everything.

* * *

><p>Four days later, Morgana was forced to leave Arthur's bedside once again and go to her own chambers. She felt a piece was missing as she slowly undressed behind her screen, as the army of maidservants filled a tub with hot water and perfumed oils. At least this time Alana and occasionally Arya would be looking after Arthur. And Merlin, too. She hadn't seen her old friend since the first few days of her return because his mother had fallen ill and he'd had to travel back to Ealdor. He'd returned a few days ago but she'd refused to see anyone and had forgotten him in her grief. She was stronger now. She had to do her duty to Arthur.<p>

Once undressed, Morgana moved away from the screen and submerged herself in the water. It burned her skin but she didn't register it. A maid came rushing in and tried to get her out of the bath, but she shook her off and cold water was dumped into the tub instead by the frantic maid who was terrified in case her mistress got burnt.

Morgana sat in the tub as the maids swarmed around her, using the time to think everything over. Arthur was still unresponsive but Gaius assured her he was out of danger. She didn't believe him, however much she wished she could, but it made her feel slightly better and the citizens were definitely more hopeful with the statement from the physician. She was scrubbed until her skin was pink and raw, although the maids were especially careful with her tender ribs which still troubled her although she was loathe to admit it, especially with Arthur's condition. Her hair was rinsed and soap was rubbed into her long black locks before the whole process was repeated several times.

The water was stone cold by the time two of the younger maids helped her rise from the bath, her body feeling like a dead weight as the weightless feel of being underwater disappeared. A white petticoat was pulled over her head before she was dressed in a beautiful crimson gown, Camelot colours. She was pushed into the chair beside her mirror and the maids rubbed her hair until it was dry before braiding her hair and pinning them in an elaborate bun.

Morgana paid no heed to the rituals, having undergone them many a time before. She couldn't care less about her appearance when Arthur lay there dying.

"It's time, my lady," said the eldest maid, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you," responded Morgana, distantly before rising from her seat and smoothing the dress.

It was time for the official ceremony.

* * *

><p>The throne room was crammed full of nobles and knights alike as Morgana slowly walked down the aisle, her crimson dress trailing behind her and the elegant sleeves brushing the floor. At the end, she sat in the throne as the room full silent.<p>

"Morgana Le Fey, do you swear to uphold all laws and customs in the absence of King Arthur?" asked Geoffrey.

"I do," replied Morgana.

"And do you swear to execute mercy and justice in all judgements you make in the name of the king?"

"I do."

"Then, it is my pleasure, to crown you Queen Regent of Camelot," said Geoffrey, placing the late Queen Igraine's crown atop her black hair.

The room erupted into clapping and Morgana pinpointed Merlin at the back of the hall. He smiled at her and she forced a smile back. She would make Arthur proud.


	19. A Shining Light

A/N - Here's the next chapter! Thinks are starting to look up now which you can probably tell by the chapter title ;) I hope you aren't disappointed. Please review if you can spare a minute. I love your opinions and just knowing you are actually enjoying this story. ArMor loving is going to start soon 

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><p><strong>19) A Shining Light<strong>

Morgana sat at the head of the table at the feast following her crowning. She was there for appearances only. Her children were required to attend and she'd uneasily accepted Merlin's offer to look after Arthur. Of course, she knew he had learnt fast the art of healing from Gaius, but she longed to be there for Arthur.

The atmosphere was bright but Morgana felt incredibly dull. Her daughters were having the time of their lives dancing with various knights and lords, most of who probably sought to have the hand of a princess. It was the first time they'd been allowed to since Lot had always kept them as his possessions; dolls to be admired but not touched until the lord with the most power came to ask for their hands. She smiled despite her glum mood as her eyes fell on Edmund twirling a young lady with a blonde braid and a turquoise gown around the hall, looking positively glowing, bordering on love.

After picking her way through a small portion of minted lamb and two lemon cakes, she decided she couldn't bear the loud music and the jesters who performed their acts all too cheerfully any longer. The suffocating feeling made up her mind and she quietly stood up and slipped out the side door, leaving her children to enjoy at least one night. After all, they were young and although she'd had a hard childhood with her father's death and her brutal uprooting from Cornwall, feasts were something she and Arthur used to enjoy together. Maybe that's why she hated this one so much. She didn't understand how everyone could forget about the precarious state of their king. Or maybe they'd just given up hope.

* * *

><p>The corridors were a welcome relief from the hustle and bustle of the feast. It wouldn't be long until her presence was missed, but most people would know better than to disturb her again. Her fiery temper was well known even though she hadn't been in the city for the best part of fifteen years.<p>

When she opened the door, her eyes fell upon Merlin's faded red tunic in the seat beside the bed. He stirred as she advanced towards him and then opened his eyes.

"My lady," he murmured, bowing his head.

"How is he?" she asked, concerned.

"He still sleeps, my lady. But he does not get any worse," explained Merlin, rising and offering the seat.

"There's no need for the formalities, Merlin. It's been a long time since I've been a Lady of Camelot," said Morgana, weary of repeating the same thing to everyone she felt remotely close to. She hated titles.

"You are Queen Regent now, Morgana," said Merlin, softly.

"I don't know what to do, Merlin. I need to be with Arthur, not dealing with mindless raids," despaired Morgana.

"You will rule as Arthur would. Morgana, there's nothing you can do for him now. His fate lies with the gods. You must keep the kingdom afloat for him. That is what he would want."

"Help me, Merlin. Please…"

"My lady, I am but a servant…"

"No, you are nobler than half the knights in this kingdom who get drunk and have a celebration as Arthur lies here. You are a loyal friend; to both me and Arthur."

Merlin blushed but Morgana didn't see it in the dark chambers, the moonlight only giving an eerie glow.

"Morgana, I…" stuttered Merlin, nervously.

"I'm serious, Merlin. I need a friend…now more than ever. I can't do it on my own."

"I'll do what I can to help, my lady," said Merlin.

"Not as my subject, Merlin, as a friend."

"Of course, Morgana. I'd be humbled to."

"Thank you, Merlin," said Morgana with a beaming smile.

She reached and felt Arthur's brow and was surprised to find it cool to touch. The bandages also looked cleaner than when she changed them.

"What…?" she started to ask.

"Gaius made a new concoction. It has helped with his fever. His body is flushing out the poison now," explained Merlin, quickly.

"You can go for tonight, Merlin. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day," she said, sighing.

"You need to sleep, Morgana. You're no good to anyone like this. Arthur won't expect you to act like this."

"I can't, Merlin. I worry too much."

"Don't we all?"

He stared at her and she stared back with admiration. He was so much more than a simple servant.

"Goodnight, my lady."

"Morgana," she corrected.

"Sleep well, Morgana," he said, genuinely.

"You too, Merlin," she responded.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Morgana woke up on the floor of Arthur's chambers. She groaned as her muscles refused to move, the hard flooring not having done her any favours. Her ribs screamed in protest and she gave up. Duty could wait. Maybe Merlin had been right. Her state of exhaustion wasn't helping anyone achieve anything. It certainly felt like she was fit for nothing but sleep; certainly not in any fit state of mind to condemn anyone or make important decisions for the good of the realm.<p>

With difficulty, she pulled herself to her feet and collapsed at the bottom of Arthur's mattress. She curled up into a ball and drew a blanket over her shoulders; exposed in her flimsy dress from last night's festivities. Deciding she would only rest for a minute or two, she allowed her heavy eyelids to close. She deserved a rest, did she not?

_Morgana felt heavy white silk weigh her body down as she walked along a plush red carpet. Behind her, Arya and Alana followed, keeping her long train brushing smoothly without getting caught. Edmund walked by her side, a smile on his face. _

_At the end of the carpet, she knelt awkwardly, and looked straight ahead, the mood now solemn. An inaudible voice spoke sagely and she heard her voice echo just as inaudibly but with an air of sincerity in the silence. _

_She was helped to her feet by strong yet soft hands but as she stared up into his face, all she got was a blur. Morgana tried to focus her mind more but all she could make out was a tinge of blonde hair; nothing more. _

_The image flicked to blackness before another scene began to evolve. _

_Two children with bright blonde hair ran in the long grass, smiling and laughing. The young girl looked very much like a princess, her hair trailing down her back and the boy looked like a younger version of Arthur; proud and powerful. _

* * *

><p>Morgana awoke with a gasp, unable to comprehend her dream. Was it a wedding she had witnessed? Her own wedding? It couldn't be though. She was freshly widowed, queen regent. There was much more to worry about than her love life; like her three beautiful children who needed her love and guidance and state matters and most of all, Arthur getting well again. And who were the children?<p>

A faint groan snapped her out of her thoughts and caused her to manoeuvre herself into a sitting position. She looked around for the source of the noise before she felt a slight movement beneath the blankets at her side. Clinging to hope that she wasn't only imaging it, she glanced down to Arthur and was amazed to find his eyelids flickering and his body twisting slightly.

"Arthur!" she questioned, desperately, jumping off the bed as carefully as she could in her hopeful excitement and shaking his arm gently.

"Wake up!"

"Arthur!"

There was another groan and some more fluttering of eyelids before finally they opened, after much encouragement from Morgana.

"Where's the fire?" murmured Arthur in a hoarse voice, the beginnings of a smile playing on his lips.

"Oh, Arthur," exclaimed Morgana, throwing her arms around her neck and embracing him tightly.

"Whoa! What are you doing?" he asked in surprise, wincing as a wave of pain swept over him.

"You're ok! Oh, thank god, Arthur! We've all been so worried."

"Wait, what happened? Morgana…?"

* * *

><p><span>AN - I don't know if I should have put that vision in but I needed to fill the space and I thought it worked ok... Could someone possibly tell me how quickly Edmund would have to claim the throne? Hope you enjoyed :)

-Rachel xxx


	20. Recovery

A/N - Sorry that this took so long to write but I've had tonnes and tonnes of homework and drama rehearsals most days after school. But, here it is. I really hope you enjoy this chapter, it has got some Arthur/Morgana interaction. Please keep reviewing because it will speed up updates. If you're lucky I will update sometime next week since there is no school :)

A special thanks to MyEternalPassion for the continuous supportive reviews!

(I know I said this fic would be done before S5 Merlin but life got in the way :( It will be finished when it's finished but it shouldn't take too long!)

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><p><strong>20) Recovery<strong>

Morgana stood on the balcony, her pearlescent dress swishing around her ankles in the fierce wind. She straightened her back and was about to run a hand through her loose hair before she remembered she wore the crown and was unable to do so.

"People of Camelot, I bring you great news," she began, her voice surprisingly loud "The gods have answered our prayers. The king lives!"

There was raucous cheering as several of the citizens looked to the sky and muttered prayers of thanks for the recovery of their king while many others started gossiping about the sudden change.

"King Arthur sustained severe wounds when he fought valiantly in the war, killing Lot of Essetir. He has handed responsibility of the kingdom over to me until he is well enough to rule again," continued Morgana "But he asks me to pass on this message; that he is proud of each and every one of you for you have all displayed great loyalty and courage. He wishes to be here but Gaius has insisted he remain in quarantine."

By now, the people had fallen into a semblance of silence although there were still several whispers.

"Today, I call a day of rest and celebration for this turn of fate. Drink to the health of our city and our king and know that his grace is with you in spirit!"

Morgana nodded to the dispersing crowds and headed back indoors out of the chill, breathing a sigh of relief that the speech was over. She silently thanked Merlin for helping her write the speech after she'd spent hours crumpling sheets of paper after sheets of papers and snapping quills in her frustration.

* * *

><p>The council chambers were the last place Morgana wanted to be. Not because she was worried about Arthur. No, Gaius had confirmed that he was on the road to recovery and was out of all danger. It had been a miracle. Morgana didn't know what to make of it but she decided not to dwell on it and just be grateful. The problem was her impatience. She couldn't be bothered sitting still listening to people listing all the same boring problems. It was made slightly better by Edmund accompanying her. Apparently, he'd been chatting with Arthur who'd given him advice on being a good king and this was the place to start.<p>

As the doors swung open and the councillors and other nobles (mainly men) entered, Morgana glanced over at her son and smiled to find him focused and very determined. She wished she had his desire to rule. In a way, it was everything she had always wanted, but she preferred not to have any major responsibilities aside from her children – like a kingdom.

At long last, a guard entered the chambers with a scroll and began the arduous task of reading out all the problems; from disputes over land and animals to unpaid taxes to minor crimes. Morgana had drifted off into a world of her own around halfway through but Edmund seemed to be getting into the swing of things; making the decisions with some help from the council. She smiled. There really was no need for her to be there.

Before the man who was accused of disturbing the peace was to be brought in, she rose from the throne and leaned over to her son, whispering that she was feeling dizzy and had to go for some fresh air and then disappearing out the side door before anyone could protest her absence.

* * *

><p>"Shouldn't you be in a council meeting?" asked Arthur as Morgana swept into his chambers.<p>

With a shrug of her shoulders, Morgana sat down in the chair and popped a grape into her mouth, pouring herself some wine.

"It's so boring…" she groaned as she took a large swallow from her goblet.

"That's what you need to do as a king," responded Arthur.

"Well, it's lucky that I'm not one then, isn't it," said Morgana with a smirk as she took another sip of wine.

"How did Edmund get on?" asked Arthur.

"Better than me," laughed Morgana, a proud twinkle in her eye.

"You're lucky that you can actually go to council meetings. I need to stay in my chambers all day and all night… Do you know how boring that is?" complained Arthur, straining to sit up properly.

"Easy…" reprimanded Morgana, moving over to his side and helping him into a sitting position, rearranging the pillows "I do understand, you know. Remember when we were younger and I fell out of a tree and broke my leg? Uther confined me to my chambers for a whole month with only some maidservant who didn't say one word."

Arthur chuckled at that, and Morgana joined in, pleased that he was able to laugh and joke instead of struggling to breathe on his deathbed.

"We had a good time as kids, didn't we, Morgana," said Arthur, somewhat forlornly.

"Yeah, we did," smiled Morgana.

"Do you ever wish we could go back to then; no responsibilities…?"

"Sometimes… But we've both been through a lot since then. We've changed…"

Arthur knew what she was talking about and he felt an enormous sense of guilt at what had happened to her. He'd always promised to protect her.

"I'm sorry, you know. My father… he never should have…" he began.

"Shhhh, Arthur. There's nothing you could have done so don't beat yourself up about it…" said Morgana, gently "Lot's dead now."

"But what he did to you… The way he treated you… You never deserved it, any of it…"

"I have my children, Arthur. Every cloud has a silver lining."

It felt strange for Arthur to hear her speak about her children. She was an amazing mother. It surprised him. As a child, she'd always been dead set against marriage and motherhood. She was pushed into though… and what choice had she had.

"So, what's the silver lining of me being bed-ridden for god knows how long?" asked Arthur, trying to lighten the mood.

"No council," laughed Morgana.

The room lapsed into silence, both reflecting of how things had changed. With the war, they'd never had a chance to speak properly since Morgana's return. Everything had been so hectic.

"Are you hungry? Or thirsty?" she asked after several minutes.

"Merlin left some lunch earlier; help yourself. I'll just have something to drink," he answered.

Morgana rose from the bed and had a look through the food, eventually just laying some heels of crusty bread, ham, cheese and then several pieces of fruit on a plate. She poured Arthur some water and wine for herself.

"Here you go," she said, handing him the goblet.

"Only water…" responded Arthur, faking disappointment "Can't I have some wine?"

"Definitely not. Gaius would kill me," joked Morgana as she delicately nibble the bread crust.

"He'll never know," said Arthur, hopefully.

"No," she laughed "You'll just need to wait till you're fighting fit again."

"Since when did you become such an alcoholic? I thought you were a 'water' sort of girl."

"That's what having kids to look after does to you," she smiled.

Arthur grinned as he finished the water and stifled a yawn.

"On the subject of Gaius, I suppose I should let you rest or I may just be forbidden from visiting you," said Morgana.

"You're Queen Regent, Morgana, Gaius can't prohibit you from doing anything," retorted Arthur.

"You've obviously never had a lecture from him," teased Morgana.

Arthur relented and motioned her over to the bed. She obeyed with a smile, fixing his pillows so he was lying down and covered with the multitude of blankets. Before she could leave, he gave her an awkward hug in his wounded condition.

"Thank you," he whispered "You've been amazing, do you know that?"

"Are you sure you're the same Arthur I grew up with?" she jested.

"I'm serious, Morgana. I couldn't have done it without you."

"It's nothing…" countered Morgana.

Arthur smirked at her embarrassment. For someone so confident, she could never take personal compliments without blushing. It was one of the things he liked most about her; that she wasn't arrogant like some of the others ladies of the court.

"Right, anyway, rest. I'll come and visit you later… if you're lucky."

With that, Morgana turned on her heel and moved out of the chambers, her heels clicking against the floor faintly until she was well out of sight of the door.


	21. Darkness

A/N - I have become inspired and have decided to expand this fic into a whole new plot so that the actual ending isn't too rushed. I hope everyone is ok with that :) Thank you for the reviews so far and please keep them coming; pretty please XD Enjoy this chapter! Morgana has another dream which is very relevant to the new direction I'm taking this in... 

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><p><strong>21) Darkness <strong>

Morgana sat in her nightgown, braiding her hair in the candlelight. At the knock on the door, she quickly finished the braid and tied it off before getting up and going to see who it was at this unearthly hour. It was past midnight but she'd never been a great sleeper even as a young child so she'd learned to adapt.

"Arthur…" she said in surprise.

"I'm not disturbing you I hope," replied Arthur.

"Not at all. Please, come in."

As she held the door open, Arthur slipped into her chambers and moved over to the seat Morgana had indicated. She closed and locked the door, feeling very paranoid since everything that had happened with Lot even though he was now dead, and sat on the edge of the bed opposite her moonlight visitor.

"So, what brings you here at this late hour? Shouldn't you be getting refreshed for you kingly duties tomorrow?" asked Morgana with a smile.

"I…I was wondering if you would…accompany me to the feast," he said, nervously.

"And there are no young maidens who you would prefer to spend your evening with? Lady Ashlee… Lady Victoria?" she asked with the ghost of a smile on her lips.

"You don't have to of course, but there is no-one who understands me better than you…" he trailed off, awkwardly, redness creeping into his cheeks "I mean… I just…"

"Of course I will accompany you. I would be honoured to," replied Morgana with a beaming smile.

Arthur's face immediately changed from uncomfortable, to relief and finally settled on happiness. He returned her smile.

"Well then, my lady, I shall bid you goodnight," he said "A lady must always have her beauty sleep… less she get irritable."

"Goodnight, my lord," she responded with a grin "And kings must always have their rest so they do not fall asleep from boredom during council sessions."

Arthur groaned and Morgana laughed lightly before rising from the bed to let him out of her chambers. He bowed to her and kissed her hand in mock courtesy.

"Until tomorrow, my lady."

"Sleep well, your grace."

* * *

><p>Morgana kicked the coverlet off irritably. She rolled over onto her side to face the window. Even after the hours of lying in the silent darkness, sleep failed to consume her. It wasn't unusual after all but it frustrated her to no end; the boredom. She'd thought about everything and anything twice over already and even that had not sent her to sleep. <em>Perhaps what she needed was to endure another council session with Arthur that would surely send her to sleep<em>, she thought with a wry smile.

Having had enough, she slipped out of bed and walked across to the window, bare feet against the freezing stone floor. Not having the sense to pull some shoes on, she sat on the window ledge, drawing her knees to her chest to make herself a smaller target for the biting autumn cold.

The citadel lay before her in all its glory; a silhouette illuminated by the moonlight, serene and silent. No-one was out and about save for the unfortunate guards on patrol. During the day, it would be a complete contrast; people rushing around, each doing the tasks that held the kingdom together. It was even busier than usual though with preparations for Samhain – festival of the dead. She'd never liked it. It brought back too many memories of her father's death, old wounds reopened once she was sure they had been sewn shut. Now, she thought of all those she'd killed in the battle and especially Lot. He'd surely come back to haunt her, to make her go insane even though she never once regretted it being the one to wield the blade that ended his life. She could almost imagine his taunting voice and his venomous words and see his pale ghostly figure out of the corner of her eye.

Morgana shook her head and changed her line of thought quickly. To her surprise, the next subject was Arthur. She was eternally grateful that his name would not join the lists of those she had killed; particularly at this time of the year where she was already haunted by enough ghosts. His recovery had been a slow one but a recovery all the same and there were no lasting effects. He was still able to ride and fight and rule. She was surprised that he'd asked to escort her to the grand feast to be held in two days' time; and glad. There wasn't a part of her that wanted to go with some stranger knight or high-ranking lord. Not after Lot. She'd never trusted easily, but now there was no-one. Everything was suspicious from the slightest whisper or a wrong look. She hated the way she'd become; so cynical, so bitter, but she couldn't change the way her mind reacted. Arthur made her feel safe and loved and happy again, just by smiling at her.

The raven-haired woman's body was soon prey to the cold and she sighed, closing the window and padding back across to bed. She wrapped herself tightly in the quilt and closed her eyes; hoping for sleep, dreamless sleep.

_All around was damp and dark; no light anywhere. The silence was pierced by a terrifyingly penetrating scream followed by desperate rattling and murmurs. More screams. As everything fell silent again, there was the sound of metal grating and a sudden burst of harsh light, artificial. It was blinding. Then, everything was submerged into darkness once more. _

Morgana shot up; her forehead on fire, flimsy nightgown clinging to her clammy skin. She bit down hard on her lip to supress a scream. The last thing she needed was more drugs; Gaius had given her enough of them as a child and they did nothing to help. Her breathing was erratic as she subconsciously clutched at the bed sheets.

Nightmares were no stranger to her and she'd learned to accept them, but this one was different. It carried an impending sense of doom like it was a premonition. The screams echoed in her ears and she shivered and pulled the covers up to her chin even though she was burning hot. She found herself shivering violently and tried desperately to compose herself. _It's only a dream, Morgana, get a grip_, she chided herself.

Once she'd regained some semblance of control, she rose from the bed and walked over to her mirror, the icy stone bringing her back to reality with each step. She splashed some cool water on her face to try and counteract the fiery fever. It worked somewhat and she found herself calming down. She breathed deeply. It was only a dream, after all.

* * *

><p>When dawn came, Morgana was dressed in a plain purple dress and her boots, having done all the basic chores to save her from sleeping again and returning to the darkness before her maidservant could even appear. The young girl looked very surprised to see her mistress having completed her tasks for her and shuffled her feet, unsure of what to do now.<p>

"Chrissie, would you be as kind as to inform my daughters to meet me in the courtyard at noon. I wish to spend some time with them," said Morgana, as soon as she noticed her maid's discomfort.

"Of course, milady. Is there anything else I can do for you…breakfast…?" asked Chrissie, nervously.

"I will eat later, Chrissie. Go, now, child and you can have the rest of the day off," responded Morgana with a smile. She was obviously new to the job.

"Thank you, milady. If you're sure, I mean."

"That will be all," finished Morgana, not unkindly.

Chrissie disappeared to do her bidding, pleased to have such a kind and understanding mistress. Morgana watched her go and then sighed. It was so hard to put up a front that she was ok and all it took was a smile and some carefully applied makeup to hide the dark circles under her eyes; indicators of her sleepless nights. Perhaps the time with her daughters would help her forget the nightmare that still refused to be shaken off.

* * *

><p>As she finished the remainder of her apple, Morgana spotted her daughters waiting by the stairs to the castle, laughing at something. Arya was clothed in the simplest of dresses possible; a white cotton one while Alana was wearing a royal blue gown adorned with bows. For sisters, they were so different.<p>

"Did you sleep well, girls?" asked Morgana.

"Yes, mother," responded Arya before giving her a pointed look which she merely nodded to, choosing not to tell her children of the nightmare.

"I had the most amazing dream," answered Alana, dizzy with happiness.

"That is most wonderful. Shall we walk and talk?" said Morgana, before taking her girls' hands in hers and heading towards the market.

Morgana tried her best to focus on the tale her youngest child was telling her. It seemed Lord William had asked to escort her to the feast and her dream had been full of dreams for the future; for their wedding and their children. She smiled and nodded along, happy to submerge herself in the childhood innocence, but her mind kept drifting back to her own dream. The more she thought on it, the more frustrated she got that she had no idea what it was even about.

"This is so pretty," said Alana, dreamily, twirling around, holding a swathe of pale pink silk against her body.

"So are you, sweet girl," smiled Morgana as she handed the royal seamstress a few gold coins and giving instructions to have the dress ready by sunset tomorrow "And what of you, Arya?"

Her eldest made a face. She was so much like Morgana had been as a child it was uncanny. Well, not a child anymore. Arya was fifteen now. The occasions for dressing up were ones dreaded since she hated the restriction. She'd learned to live with it though, use it to her advantage.

"How about this?" asked Morgana, pointing to a golden velvet dress as Alana had her measurements taken. Arya shook her head. "This?"

Several dresses and fabrics later, Arya finally nodded her head and smiled at a crimson silk dress with a belt of gold leaves. Morgana sighed in relief and ushered her over to the seamstress with the coins. That just left her…


	22. The Feast

**22) The Feast**

The last pin slid into Morgana's ebony mane, securing the jewelled hairnet over the elaborately twisted bun. She thanked the maid and dismissed her, standing up and looking at herself in the mirror. The royal purple dress was not something she would have chosen herself but Alana had insisted. It was a beautiful gown; royal purple taffeta with a petticoat beneath. She was used to wearing corsets but her ribs still felt crushed. It was just so unnatural. The draping sleeves annoyed her too but she'd get used to him. After all, it was these types of dresses that Lot had ordered for her as his personal doll.

There was a knock on her door and she smiled, slipping an amethyst ring onto her slim finger and dabbing some lavender on her neck before going to answer it.

"Are you ready?" asked Arthur.

Morgana nodded. The king was dressed in shining chainmail; his blood red cloak clasped around his neck. His ceremonial sword hung at his waist; not much use in an actual battle but much more elegant. He wore his crown proudly as he grinned at her.

"You look simply stunning, my lady," he complimented.

"Thank you, my lord," she returned with a faint blush which was offset by the brightness of her lipstick.

There were the almost inaudible sounds of laughter coming from the great hall even though it was miles away and the roar of fires joined the cacophony.

"My lady," he said, holding out his arm.

"My champion," she replied, taking his offered arm and dipping her head.

* * *

><p>The feast was in full swing by the time they reached the double doors. As the herald announced them, the hall instantly fell silent and a path was cleared for the king and his lady. Arthur led the way although Morgana fell in step with him, a genuine smile plastered on her face, the first in a long while.<p>

There was muffled laughter coming from the side and Morgana turned to look, curiously, as Arthur remained absorbed in the wordless joke he was sharing with his knights. Arya and Edmund had stopped popping grapes into their mouths and Arya was trying to distract herself from her mother's glance. Morgana had no idea what was so funny but then it hit her. Her and Arthur. When she turned to chide her children about rumours, she noticed a flash of red as her two eldest rushed away. Despite the embarrassment that her daughter and son believed there to be something other than friendship between her and the king, she smiled. Sometimes, she forgot that they were only children; young and playful.

From the high table, she observed the floor before her. Couples twirled each other around as the many candles flickered brightly, welcoming the dead to join the celebrations. Laughter encased everything, a warming background noise as she chatted casually with Arthur, recounting some happier memories of her children growing up. He in turn told her of Camelot and everything she had missed, careful to avoid mentioning his father.

"Lords, ladies, people of Camelot," he began in a booming voice which carried over the noise as people turned to look at their king "Tonight we remember the dead; our loved ones. Tonight we keep their memory alive. If anyone wishes to tell a tale, feel free to do so. But first, as king, I would like to share a memory of my father."

Morgana settled back in her seat and blocked out Arthur's voice. There was no love lost between her and Uther: he'd sent her to a vile man who'd abused her like she was his personal possession. She didn't want to hear about him when he was finally gone from her life. But he was Arthur's father so she slipped into a world of her own, not wanting to upset him but refusing to listen.

"Morgana, are you alright?" asked Arthur, quietly, as he sat back down and one of the younger knights began to speak of his father who'd died in the battle against Essetir.

"I'm fine, Arthur," replied Morgana, quickly.

"I'm sorry. I know hearing about my father is the last thing you want…"

"Don't be. He's your father and despite how much I hate him, he loved you and he raised you. It's only right that you can speak of him on this night."

"You're so understanding, Morgana. How do you do it? He sold you…"

"And it's not your fault, Arthur, none of it ever was. So, if you want to grieve, then I won't come between you."

"I hate him for what he done to you, Morgana, and I wish I could have stopped him…but he's my father and…"

"I know you miss him, Arthur. Just as I miss my father."

"Do you wish to say something?" he asked her, indicating the room.

"No… I never liked Samhain. It's so depressing…" she replied.

"I'll let you in on a secret… I hate it just as much as you. What's the point of re-opening old wounds…?"

Morgana was about to reply but there was no time as the servants entered with the first course. As she helped herself to some beef along with fresh bread and pumpkin seeds, Arthur shot her a secretive smile before he began to eat and talk to Sir Leon. Morgana chewed her meat thoughtfully as she scanned the crowd, her eyes falling on Alana sitting with the young lord, staring up into his eyes as he fed her tiny apple squares dipped in honey. _Young love… _She thought back to her childhood and wondered who her first love had been. Not that she'd had much time. It was with a shock that she realised it had been Arthur...

The wine was flowing freely and Morgana observed her children. She was sure that Arya and Edmund at least were indulging in the wine as they were getting very giggly. But she chose not to spoil their fun. It was a one off.

"Morgana…" whispered Arthur "Would you give me the honour of this dance?"

"Of course," smiled Morgana, draining the rest of her goblet and allowing him to help her to her feet.

He pulled her to the floor and put one hand on her waist and the other on her shoulder. She got into her position as the orchestra started their merry tune once again. Arthur twirled her around the dance floor, faster and faster until everything was a dizzy blur. She laughed as her hair began to pull loose from its confines. Even as he spun her, her footwork was impeccable as was his. They'd done it so much when they were younger.

Suddenly, she felt herself stop and be tugged along by her partner as the world spun around her and made her stumble, as if drunk. Her vision began to clear and she saw the side door ahead. Arthur gripped her hand to prevent her turning back and led her through the door.

A blast of cold air hit her straight away as the heat from the fires and candles was removed. She felt the world steady and finally halted.

"Where are we going?" she asked when she noted his mischievous grin.

"Shhhh, don't speak," he replied, putting a finger to her lips.

Then, he took her by the hand again and pulled her along the airy and empty corridor. Before they knew it, they were running through the castle. They would surely have been a more than peculiar sight for anyone passing but everyone was occupied with the feast or celebrating Samhain in some way.

* * *

><p>Down and down they went until Arthur pushed a heavy door open. Morgana followed him inside; déjà vu hitting her suddenly. The wine cellars. The height of her rebellious phase or at least the one where she was most defiant and hell-bent on getting Uther angry at least. She spent most of her life being rebellious. She'd often snuck down to the cellars and gotten herself drunk, mostly to annoy Uther in the hopes of him sending her back to her home but sometimes just to sleep longer instead of attending court meetings. Once Arthur discovered her, he joined her and they had a laugh down below as the castle slept.<p>

"Here," he said, handing her a large goblet filled with blood red wine.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked, uncertainly but even so she took a large gulp.

"Oh, come on, where's your sense of fun? Just because it's the festival of the dead, it doesn't mean we have to be depressed," complained Arthur.

"As my lord commands," teased Morgana.

Arthur took his own goblet and downed it in one, holding it out to Morgana as if in challenge. Never one to back down, she finished her goblet too. Almost instantly, the alcohol went to her head but she smiled and indicated the bottle.

"The way you're going, the whole kingdom will be out of wine!"

"I am very depressed!"

* * *

><p>An hour of chatting but more drinking later, and it was safe to say that both were extremely drunk; Arthur probably more so. Morgana picked up her cup and took a sip again.<p>

"Can you not handle it, Arthur?" she asked, giggly.

"That is a question, for you," he responded.

Morgana looked at him, confused, as he rose from the floor (they'd given up trying to remain standing fairly quickly) and walked over to her, tripping over nothing several times.

"Arthur?" she asked, questioningly.

Suddenly, his lips crashed against hers, quickly silencing her. Instinctively, she deepened the kiss before her rational mind kicked in and she pulled back from him as if his touch burned. He leaned forward again, but she put her hands on his shoulders and kept him back.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Something I should have done a long time ago…" replied Arthur, his voice slurred with the quantity of alcohol he'd consumed.

"Arthur, you're drunk…" protested Morgana.

Like a petulant child, Arthur shook his head, unable to think of the words to convince her. He didn't have another chance as she stood up and swayed slightly. With a deep breath, she began to walk to the door, stumbling in her drunken state.

"Morgana…" he called after her.

"Go to bed, Arthur," she responded, grabbing onto the bannister to stop herself from falling down "It was a mistake – a stupid mistake."

With that, she disappeared in a series of bangs as she knocked several bottles to the ground, smashing them.

* * *

><p><span>AN - I hope you enjoyed that chapter. I love all reviews/alerts I get so please keep them coming. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter XD 

P.S - Just another reminder, in this fic Morgana and Arthur ARE NOT related in anyway. 


	23. Always

A/N - Don't hate me! I'm so sorry for the long wait but life got in the way. I've been so busy and I've had to revise Biology, Chemistry, Maths and English. My tests are out of the way for now though so I hope for quicker updates!

To make up for my appalling delay, this chapter is a bit longer but some of you might not like it... I feel awful for doing this to Morgana but this story wrote itself. Think of it as getting worse and then worse again before it can get any better. By better, I mean lots of ArMor XD I already have the ending planned and I think you'll love it but for now, we have to make it realistic and I will try my best on that!

Quick Note - The Other Side of Things will not be updated for a while because I have no ideas for Merlin's fate... If anyone could help I'd be so grateful XD 

As always, please review and let me know what you think. They mean so much to me and fellow writers will know!

Anyway, I'll leave you to read! I hope you enjoy :) x

* * *

><p><strong>23) Always <strong>

"Morgana," Arthur interrupted her thoughts.

The raven-haired woman stopped walking and slowly turned to face him, her face entirely void of emotion.

"We need to talk," he stated.

"No, Arthur, we don't," responded Morgana, regret lacing her voice.

"Please… I'll be waiting in the garden at midday…"

"Arthur…"

"I'm not forcing you to come, Morgana. But this will be the last chance we have to talk before you go to Essetir."

"Fine, I'll be there."

The king gave her a grateful smile before turning around. She sighed and walked in the opposite direction. The way things had turned out between them after the feast was awful, but she didn't have a choice. She hated it as much as him; she just couldn't admit it. Fresh out of marriage, she couldn't just court the king. The people would revolt and there was no way she would be responsible for more trouble. Maybe Arthur would understand her reasons. Somehow, she didn't think he would just accept it though…

* * *

><p>The sun streamed down on him as he paced back and forth. She wasn't going to come, was she…? He'd made just a stupid mistake and now he'd ruined everything. What on earth possessed him to kiss her? They were having fun and he just pushed it too far. He cursed under his breath. This was his father's fault for sending her away, Lot's fault for mistreating her and causing a war… But most of all it was his fault and he knew that.<p>

"Arthur," she said in a soft voice which still managed to startle him.

"Morgana?" he questioned.

"Stop pacing, Arthur, you're making me nervous," she laughed.

"You came…"

"Of course I did. I told you I would."

"Thank you."

"Listen, Arthur, we… we can never happen…"

"Why not?" he challenged.

"Because the people will never agree… You must marry someone who can give you something in return."

"I want someone who will love me, not just marry me to be a queen. I want you."

"But you can't have me. I will not let Camelot fall because of me."

"Look, I made a mistake… I should never have kissed you. I was drunk…"

"That's what I told myself… but I'm just lying to myself. I love you Arthur. I always have and I always will. But we can never be together."

"Morgana, please… Just think about this," Arthur implored.

"No, I've made my decision… This is just the way it has to be," replied Morgana, sadly.

With that, she reached up and planted a soft kiss on his lips, lingering a little too long.

"I'm sorry…" she whispered.

"Morgana, wait… You can't just leave."

"I have to. Don't think of it as goodbye. I'm only going for a while, until everything is sorted, and then I'll see you again."

"I can get the knights to look after Essetir. You don 't have to go," tried Arthur.

"But I do. Trust me, it is better this way. We leave on the morrow."

Morgana walked through the stone archway, unshed tears in her eyes. Only one escaped its prison once Arthur couldn't see. She felt like her heart had been shattered into tiny fragments. Was she making the right decision…? _Stop it_, she chided herself. The sooner she was out of here, the sooner she could try to forget. Her and Arthur. A distant memory was all they could become. Uther had ruined all chances of them when he sent her off to be Lot's puppet queen.

* * *

><p>Morgana sat astride her white horse, breathing deeply. Her son, soon to be a king, was mounted upon his black stallion, clad in light battle armour, sword sheathed in his saddle. Arya and Alana were on their own horses, insistent that they were entirely capable. Morgana had allowed them to. She had been the same after all…<p>

"Have a safe journey, my lady," said Arthur, formally.

At this, she turned her head and gave him a smile which to anyone else would look happy. But he saw the sadness lingering in her emerald orbs. She nodded slightly before taking the reins in her hands.

"Thank you, my lord."

"And always remember that Camelot is your ally always and forever. Do not hesitate to ask for our help."

"You are very kind, Arthur. Thank you, for all that you have done for us."

"It was my pleasure, Morgana."

The ten knights that were to accompany them began to ride out, and Morgana followed them, resisting all urges to look back. Tears shone in her eyes and she quickly wiped them before anyone could question her on it. How was she supposed to explain? No-one would ever understand…

* * *

><p>"What's wrong, mother?" asked Arya, bringing her horse to ride in sync with Morgana's.<p>

Startled, Morgana tried to recover herself.

"Nothing, child, I'm just… I'm just tired that's all. I had a nightmare last night…"

It was a feeble excuse and Arya definitely did not believe it. She gave her mother a questioning stare but thankfully did not ask anything further.

"How long until we reach Essetir?"

"A day's ride, I believe. You should ask one of our knights."

"I know about you and Arthur. Everything will work out someday," said her daughter, quietly, before riding to the front of the group.

Morgana sighed. Was it truly that obvious? But of course it was. Normally, she would be leading them, not leaving it up to her companions. She would be riding at a much faster pace too. It was like someone up there really had a personal vendetta against her. Couldn't she just be happy for once?

"My lady, nightfall is almost upon us. I believe we should make camp here for the night," said a knight.

"I'll go collect firewood," responded Morgana, dismounting with practiced ease and ignoring his protests.

The collection was taking much longer than normal as her concentration level continued to decline, her thoughts returning to Arthur; his blonde her and his twinkling blue eyes. Her mind drifted back to her dream. It had kept returning to her after their kiss in the wine cellar. But it couldn't mean anything important, could it? Nothing would ever come of her and Arthur… She shook her head. _Get a grip, Morgana. When have you ever needed a man? Forget him! _And she attempted to as she bent down to collect the rest of the required kindling. And god did she try, so very hard.

* * *

><p>"Mother!"<p>

"My lady!"

"Morgana!"

"Mother! Wake up! Mother!"

The distant shouts sounded frenzied and panicked but somehow they didn't seem important enough to wake up for. She mumbled incoherently and turned onto her side. Suddenly, she felt a stinging slap delivered to her cheek and shot up faster than anyone could think was possible.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?" asked Morgana, furious, bringing a hand to her burning cheek.

"You had to wake up…" replied Arya, indignantly.

As soon as she heard the clash of swords, Morgana was on her feet, sword in hand. She surveyed her surroundings and to her dismay found that the whole camp was surrounded by bandits. There were two bodies of her knights lying lifeless on the ground among the dead bandits. Sir Randle cut down three bandits in quick succession but more seemed to reappear to take their place. There was no chance of winning this.

Morgana lifted her sword to deflect a blow coming to her ear and was pleasantly surprised when Edmund dealt with her attacker. She scanned the bloodbath until her eyes fell on Alana, hiding behind a tree, sword raised.

"Arya, get your sister and run. Don't look back," ordered Morgana.

"Run where?" asked Arya.

"Arya, don't argue with me. Now, go," said Morgana, her tone stern.

"Mother…"

"ARYA!"

With a sigh, Arya did as she was bid as Edmund looked on, shocked that his mother had used such a harsh tone.

"Edmund, we need to leave. Come on," said Morgana, gentler now.

"I'm not abandoning the knights!" responded Edmund.

"You are a future king, Edmund. People will die for you. Now, come. I know one thing, those are no ordinary bandits. It's not safe here!"

Morgana hated being so ruthless but she had no choice. She'd seen a group of bandits with the red patch stitched onto their shoulders in court back in Esssetir. From what she recalled, they were called the 'Blood Brigade' and were notoriously famous for having no mercy. The knights didn't stand a chance and they wouldn't if they stayed to fight.

* * *

><p>"I want to go back," said Arya, as she cracked a twig underfoot.<p>

"Arya, mother told us to leave. She'll be with us soon," responded Alana, trying to calm her elder sister.

"It's a slaughter back there, Alana. They'll never make it out alive!"

"Have faith. Don't give up before there is the need to."

"I'm going back, Alana. I have to!"

"No! You're not going back in there to get yourself killed."

"Shhh," ordered Arya.

"You're not…"

Alana closed her mouth instantly when she heard heavy footsteps; several people were heading towards them. Arya instinctively unsheathed her sword and Alana slid her two daggers out of her belt, holding one in each hand.

"Not a word," whispered Arya which was rather unnecessary.

The footsteps got closer and then stopped. No doubt they'd found a trail that they'd carelessly left and were about to search the area.

"I know you're here, princesses. Come out and I won't be too angry…" taunted someone.

The two girls didn't move, didn't even dare to breathe.

"Search for them!"

Alana nodded to her sister and pointed her dagger towards who appeared to be in charge. The bushes they were hiding behind wouldn't conceal them for long and if they could take out the leader, the group would fall into chaos. Then, they burst out into the clearing, shocked to find more than ten men there.

Arya made quick work of one man by bringing her sword across his stomach but more were on her in an instant. Alana was trying to deflect two men at once with mere daggers and her left hand wasn't keeping up with the man since it wasn't her most practiced hand. She looked over at Arya who looked to be struggling under the weight and force of the bandits_. Time for some tricks_, she thought. Without thinking of anything, she ducked down abruptly, wincing when she felt a warm trickle of blood on her face as one of her opponent's sword slashed the other man across the face as the intended target disappeared.

It was useless as she reached Arya and stabbed one man in the back though because he only turned on her instead, the dagger not piercing through his thick protection of boiled leather. The man who was at least twice her height and build swung his sword towards her head and knocked her out cold as the hilt collided with her temple.

Arya was too engrossed in her fight to even notice, her mind fully concentrating on staying away from the suddenly deadlier blades. She felt something cold and metal against her neck and froze.

"Drop it, girl, or I'll open your throat!" threatened a man.

She had no choice but to comply and allowed her sword, her sense of security, to drop from her sweaty palm. The man smirked at her as he hoisted her over his shoulder, restraining her with one muscular arm. It was then that Arya's eyes fell on her unconscious sister who was being lifted roughly in the same manner as she was. They were in real trouble now!

* * *

><p>"Morgana," came a shout from somewhere out of sight.<p>

Immediately, the pair stopped and looked around, swords drawn, ready t0 fend off an attack.

"We have your daughters!"

Morgana felt her heart stop as she took a deep breath to try and think properly. They were bluffing; they had to be bluffing.

"Drop the weapons, NOW or they die!"

"Show yourself," demanded Edmund, fiercely protective over his sisters.

"You've got exactly five seconds, boy," threatened the man.

"You're lying," said Morgana.

"Are you willing to test me? Maybe you'd prefer it if I brought you one of their pretty heads. The one with the daggers, perhaps…"

There were several seconds of eerie silence before Morgana reluctantly dropped her sword and kicked it away from her, her blood running cold as she thought of Arya and Alana, Edmund doing the same moments after her. She'd been foolish to send them away on her own.

"I told you not to mess me about! All of your weapons or they die! This is not a game!"

_I'll kill them for this_, she thought, venomously as she removed the dagger from her sleeve, her belt and her boot. She could take no risks when it came to her children. But she didn't like the vulnerability one bit. Now, she had no means to defend herself…

"Where are they?" she shouted into the air.

"You'll see them soon enough, my lady," said a man, his tone gloating.

Edmund's face contorted in anger as five men sauntered out of their hiding place amongst the trees. His arms were pulled behind his back by one man. Morgana was given similar treatment and it took all of her willpower not to fight back. This was not her. If she didn't have her daughters at risk, those men wouldn't even dare restrain her like this. But she did. She had a weakness, a weakness which was incredibly easy to exploit.

"Move!" demanded the man "And don't even think about trying anything or the pretty little princesses will pay."

Morgana growled as she was pushed forward, powerless to do anything. Surprisingly, her thoughts turned to Arthur. Would he realise she was missing when she never sent word? Or would he take her lack of contact as a sign for her reluctance to give in to the kiss?

_I'll always love you, Arthur,_ she thought before she caught sight of the bandits' handiwork and almost leapt forward then and there.


	24. Captured

A/N - I'm so sorry for the delay but here's the next chapter. Thank you for the reviews, please, please keep them coming. They really do help me write :)

Also, let me know your thoughts about the latest Merlin episodes and what you hope for the finale! I really, really want an ArMor sword fight or scene of some sort ;) 

Enjoy! x

* * *

><p><strong>24) Captured<strong>

"What have you done to my daughter?" screamed Morgana.

"You're daughters here proved more…difficult that we presumed…" responded the man restraining her.

"If you go anywhere near my children again I swear to the goddess that I'll make you regret it!"

"I wouldn't be so quick to threaten; my lady or I'll do something that really will make you scream."

"You won't get away with this!"

"Oh, we will. We most definitely will."

Morgana fought wildly against the bandit as a cloth was pressed over her nose and mouth. She tried to hold her breath, feeling dizzy for the lack of oxygen. Her arm was twisted painfully behind her back, allowing her no room for struggling. The world was going hazy and eventually the drug seized her limbs and she fell into the bandit's awaiting arms.

"Mother!" was the last thing she heard before she blacked out.

* * *

><p>Morgana opened her eyes slowly to darkness. Instantly, an overwhelming pain hit her like someone beating against her skull with the hilt of a sword. <em>My children…<em> she thought _Where are they? _Anger coursed through her as she pushed herself awkwardly into a sitting position, the world spinning crazily before finally settling. Unfortunately, her vision didn't get any clearer and she assumed it was just because of her environment; at least she hoped it was.

"Let me go!" she shouted. Well, she intended to shout. What came out was a ragged croak.

"Where are my children?"

"I demand that you release me immediately!"

It must have been half an hour later when a chink of light appeared and two figures arrived. So she was in a tent and not a dungeon… That was interesting. They were still on the move which meant there was opportunity for escape.

"About time," she said, distastefully.

The two men didn't speak a word, advancing scarily fast and hauling her to her feet, sparking another wave of dizziness. She was dragged out into the daylight, only staying upright because of their tight hold on her upper arms.

"Where the hell are you taking me?"

Again, no reply: just a sharp tug to keep her moving. Like she had a choice… Plus, she wanted to find out what was going on and why she had been captured. Once she knew that, she could begin to work out an escape plan.

* * *

><p>After what seemed like decades, they reached their destination; a dull red tent, a black flag with a white cross attached to the top. Morgana rolled her eyes as she was pushed in and forced to her knees.<p>

"Lady Morgana. What a pleasure to finally meet you. I have heard much of you," said a surprisingly silky voice.

"Show yourself," she demanded.

"Oh, you don't know me. But you knew my cousin."

"I know many people."

"Sir Hanson. You slit his throat."

Morgana was quickly silenced. During the battle, she'd killed a great many people. It wasn't her fault… It was a war, after all, and they'd chosen to fight. Just on the opposite side from her.

"You don't even remember him, do you?"

"No."

At this, he stepped forward and revealed his face. He must have been at least forty; his facial muscles hardened and his skin bronzed by long days spent under the sun. There was no doubt that he was a skilled fighter, judging by the sword hanging at his side and his cocky look.

"Maybe if I murder one of you children… I don't know, the older girl… Perhaps she'll just be another nameless face that I kill as a means to an end."

"You leave her alone!"

"Hanson was a brave man, an honourable man!"

"He served Lot. The man was a tyrant!"

"Are you telling me Uther Pendragon was not? You seemed to like him well enough! My cousin was one of Essetir's best knights…"

"Yet I still killed him: a mere woman!"

Morgana's head snapped to the side as her captor backhanded her in anger at her taunts. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth from the cut on the inside of her cheek.

"You're going to regret that!" he promised, coldly.

"Make me!" she spat.

"Bring the girls in!" ordered the man "NOW!"

Her face paled as her heart started to thump wildly in her chest. What had her mouth got her into now? She just couldn't control her damned pride.

"You leave them alone! They've done nothing wrong!"

"They're your evil spawn!"

"I killed your cousin. I drove the knife through his heart without a second thought. None of them had any part in it. So punish me!"

"Oh, no, no, no, my lady. I know exactly how to hurt you. You love your children more than you care about yourself."

"You won't touch them! I won't let you!"

* * *

><p>Morgana closed her eyes and breathed deeply as her two daughters were roughly shoved into the tent. He wouldn't really hurt them, would he? Both of them were trying to hide their terror and it shattered her heart.<p>

"Look at them, Morgana!" he ordered.

"I won't!"

At the sound of a crack, she flew around to see a red mark slowly spreading across Alana's cheek, her eyes watering from the force of the impact.

"Stop!" screamed Morgana, desperate, realising he wasn't bluffing.

"By the end of the day, I'm going to have you begging for mercy, Morgana. And every day after that!"

As his hand swished through the air towards Alana's face once again, Arya pulled her backwards, off-balancing him. He went red with anger and Morgana knew she had to do something. His right hand unsheathed his sword in one swift motion and he flipped it around, launching the hilt towards Arya's legs. Morgana had no other option and flung herself in front of her eldest daughter. The metal collided with her shin and she fell backwards with a bitten back cry, eyes watering.

"Please," she yelled, defeated as the flat of the sword raced towards Alana.

"I'm sorry, my lady, I can't hear you!" taunted the man.

"Please, leave them alone. Do want you want to me, but leave them out of it. Let them go and I won't fight back."

"Do you take me for a fool?" he roared.

"No," responded Morgana, biting back her scathing remark.

"Stand up!" he ordered.

Openly wincing, she rose shakily to her feet, locking her knees in place. As his sword whistled in the air, hurtling towards her, she was about to move out of the way but planted her feet firmly. She had to protect her children. Instead, she screwed her eyes shut and was surprised when the blade stopped.

"Ok, Morgana. It seems you are prepared to sacrifice yourself for your children. Since I'm feeling generous, I'll leave them be. You, however, must pay for the murder!"

The lady of Camelot was stonily silent, not wanting to grovel but not daring to push it further. She nodded ever-so-slightly. They had to escape. No matter the cost.

* * *

><p>Pacing in the tent, Morgana tried to stop her fury manifesting. She had to get them out of here and fast! There was no way she could stay meek for long, it just wasn't her nature, and she couldn't handle the guilt of her children being hurt because of her. But the bastard seemed to know how to keep her a prisoner. He had the massive threat over her head. She only had one chance and she couldn't mess it up. To make things all the more difficult though, her children were god knows where and they would be clueless to any meagre plan she could come up with.<p>

"Morgana!" said a sharp voice.

On guard immediately, she spun around to come face to face with an ogre of a man. He approached and she remembered she couldn't fight back. With a look that could kill she held her wrists out and allowed the man to bind them tightly with coarse rope.

"And Viper told me you were a fierce little thing," laughed the man.

_Don't be provoked. Stay calm. Keep silent. You can't afford to. Comply. Don't give them a reason to hurt them._ She repeated it over and over inside her head as she was led forcibly out of the tent, a scowl on her face at having been detained so damn easily.

The opposite end of the rope was passed on to another man on horseback who smirked at her. Ignoring him, she searched for her children. She couldn't locate them until she heard the ogre's voice rising in anger. It was Edmund that was the source of his rage as he fought against being bound, punching and kicking anyone who came close. Morgana smiled to the ground. She may not be able to put up a fight but her son sure as hell could. They'd underestimated them all for far too long. Far too long. And it was going to be their ultimate downfall.


	25. Only One Chance

A/N - Sorry for the delay! Thanks for the reviews, please kept them coming. Enjoy!

I would love you to let me know what you think will happen next, just to see if I have surprised you XD

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><p><strong>25) Only One Chance<strong>

As the group moved off, Morgana was pulling stumbling after them. Quickly, she mastered how to walk in a more dignified manner across the rocky terrain. Her mind was elsewhere, plotting. At least, she was trying to, but the sharp jarring of her wrists every few minutes and the raucous shouting from the men were enough to distract her. How had she let herself into this situation? She'd allowed herself to be blackmailed and she was struggling to figure a way out of this predicament.

Broken from her thoughts by a series of shouts, Morgana turned her head to the source of the noise. The horses were halted and most of the riders dismounted, and like she wished to do, headed to the back to investigate the commotion. Morgana looked to the ground and smirked to herself. The perfect opportunity had presented itself. This was their only chance. She couldn't screw it up.

Leaving no time to back out of her meagre plan, if you could call it that, she slowly and as inconspicuously as possible walked under her ropes several times until they were slightly twisted. Then, she pulled backwards sharply. Since the man who had held it had gone and left the end tied to the saddle, it came free on her second attempt. Wrists still bound, she ran to the saddle and was relieved to discover a small but sharp knife in its sheath. It wouldn't serve well as a weapon but with some difficult sawing motions, the rope fell to the ground in tatters. Now to get to her children…

Feeling safer with the blade resting in her palm, she turned away from the three men still mounted and gloating about her by the sounds of things, prepared to go straight to the back. Her act first and think later plan in action and not for the first time…

"Halt!" roared one of the men, choosing the wrong moment to turn and check on the prisoner.

_Damn. Damn him to hell._

Almost out of instinct, she released the dagger and it was flying through the air, a blur of deadly silver before it embedded in one of their shoulders. It was not as fatal as she'd hoped but it would serve to slow him at least down.

Now defenceless, she tore off into the forest and then stopped abruptly. She couldn't abandon her children but how was she going to free them when the group was now hurtling after her…Footsteps thudded behind her and she knew she didn't have any chance of a successful fight. _Think Morgana_. Taking a huge risk but knowing she had to do something, she leapt up and grabbed onto one of the lower tree branches, hauling herself up.

When she was perched a few branches up, her hands were bleeding from deep scratches but it had worked and she released a breath as the men raced underneath her, furious that she'd evaded them. Except she hadn't because they still had her children. So why weren't they threatening her with them…?

* * *

><p>Waiting a few more minutes which seemed to drag on for centuries just to be certain the men were gone, Morgana swung down from the tree, thanking the gods that she'd had plenty of practice in her games of hide and seek with Arthur as a child. How she wished he was here to help her now…<p>

When she got back to the place they'd stopped, most of the horses had been abandoned and there was no-one in sight. Where were they? Morgana, wary of an attack, approached one of them and searched the saddle and then another, smiling when her hand clasped the hilt of a sword. Her face fell instantly as she spotted a trail of blood leading into the forest. _Oh god, no. What the hell had happened? She should never have risked it, not when she was unsure as to what she was actually doing. _Panic was clouding her mind fast. _Stop it. You have to find them. _

Morgana got the fright of her life when she felt an icy cold hand reach up to tap her on the shoulder. She whirled around and almost screamed when she realised her sword had been millimetres away from removing Arya's head.

"What? How?" asked Morgana.

"My ropes were loose. They were so occupied with Arya and Edmund that they didn't tie mine nearly as tight. I was able to get my hands free and then theirs," said Alana with a smile.

"We got into some trouble with a few of them, though," added Edmund. When he spoke, Morgana noted that his lip was bleeding. He saw her looking "It's nothing, mother, honest."

"You should have seen them when we were finished with them," continued Arya.

"I'm so proud of you all; you know that, don't you? But you shouldn't be so proud of the violence. These men were monsters and they deserved everything, but it is a thin line between justice and revenge. Don't ever lose yourselves to evil."

In turn, she kissed each of them on the forehead. It felt so good to have them safe again. And that's when it hit her that they weren't. They were still in terrible danger. The men weren't fools; they'd see no trail and come back to search for them. She didn't want to be around them when they returned.

"We have to go! Now!"

"Where? I've no idea where we are."

"I've no idea, son, but we need to get out of here. Camelot, perhaps?"

"It could be days away…" Alana pointed out.

"There's no other options, sweetheart. At least we'll be one step closer."

"Can't we take the horses?" asked Arya.

"No. The tracks are too easy to follow. We'll find a village, I promise. We can rest and maybe contact Arthur."

"Why do they want to hurt us?" questioned Alana.

"Because I killed someone," responded Morgana, simply "And they want revenge."

* * *

><p>Having walked for hours in the dark, they were all exhausted and just about ready to collapse. Every sound caused them to jump at first but now they didn't acknowledge it. Partly because they were on a narrow, dusty track and there was nowhere to hide.<p>

"There's a village," said Edmund.

"It's our best chance," agreed Morgana.

So, once again they set off, following the solitary light, praying that it wasn't enemy territory.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" asked Alana.

"We just don't mention names," responded Arya "It'll be fine."

The youngest sibling gnawed her lip, unsure. She had a sense that something was amiss. It had been too easy to escape.

"It'll be ok, sweetheart. We'll just stay for one night," Morgana tried to reassure her.

In reality, her fears about the village were niggling in her stomach, pressing her to turn back. She had no idea what kingdom they were in, let alone the village and Camelot was not allied with many of the kingdoms surrounding Essetir. Still, there was no alternative. They all needed rest and food, they couldn't last much longer stumbling around aimlessly.

* * *

><p>Morgana had severely underestimated the distance and it was breaking dawn when they finally reached the outskirts of the village. People were already up with the sun and they received several curious glances as they walked through, exhausted and rough.<p>

In the heart of the village, there was a small inn and they entered quickly, heads down. The woman who ran it was stout and looked very fierce, making them all even more uncomfortable.

"We would like a room, if you please," said Edmund.

"Don't bother me, boy. What does bother me is if you have the gold," retorted the innkeeper.

"…"

"You look like trouble. I don't want no trouble."

"We were ambushed by bandits on the road. My sister is injured. Please.."

"That ain't no concern of mine."

"We just need to rest. For one night," Arya piped up, trying her best to look young and vulnerable.

"If you'll just stop hassling me. Up the stairs and first on the right," said the woman "And you two girls can help me clean up later as payment."

"Thank you," finished Arya, taking the key.

"And there better be no trouble!"


	26. The Village

A/N - Happy New Year everyone! I hope 2013 is amazing for you all XD

This is a quicker update. I'm not too happy with it but I suppose it is necessary to get all of the characters to where they need to be. You probably think I'm being too unfair on poor Morgana but I'm not doing it for the hell of it, there is reasoning. Her children, particularly her daughters, will have a bigger role in a few chapters.

Hope you enjoy and please review! xxx

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><p><strong>26) The Village<strong>

Alana scrubbed vigorously at the plate while Arya walked the length of the small kitchen over and over again.

"Gods be true, will you stop pacing! You're making me nervous!" said Alana, setting down the freshly cleaned dish and selecting a new one from the mountainous pile at random.

The technique had been relatively easy to grasp and she'd gotten stuck in straight away. After all, there was a lot to do and they owed it to the innkeeper for giving them a room.

"I can't!" responded Arya "Something's going to happen!"

"Well, I've been saying that since we arrived."

"Yes, but mother is worried, too. I can sense it, Alana."

"It can't be that dangerous or she wouldn't have decided to stay here for the rest of the week."

"That's only because she has no idea where we are or what direction we're supposed to go in!"

"Yes, and neither do we."

"Which is precisely why we should go and find out!"

"Look, once we've finished up here or we'll get _thrown out_ tonight, and then we'll go and take a look around ourselves. I don't like it any more than you do but we don't exactly have a choice," suggested Alana.

"Fine," agreed Arya with reluctance, moving towards her sister.

* * *

><p>Edmund dodged the flying chips of wood as the axe struck the trunk of the tree. He repeated the motion, getting increasingly frustrated as it refused to give.<p>

"Need any help, boy?" asked a male voice from behind him.

The prince spun around, prepared to defend himself with the axe, the only weapon available, if necessary.

"Relax, boy," said the man.

Upon realising it was only one of the villagers, Edmund cursed himself for his stupidity. It was a village, of course people would be wandering through the forest.

"No, no, no, you're doing it all wrong!" chided the man, removing the axe from his grip. He proceeded with his demonstration, felling the tree with three strong blows "I'm Tom."

"Ed-" Edmund responded naturally before remembering that no-one could be trusted, least of all here "Eddie."

"You're not from round here, are you, _Eddie_?"

"No…"

"Dangerous time to be travelling."

"How so?"

"Do you know nothing, boy? The king is preparing to declare war on Camelot."

At this, Edmund's face paled. If they were caught…

"Ah, so you're from Camelot. Long way from home."

"No!" This man knew too much. He would figure out the truth of his identity without much probing at this rate.

"Thanks for the help, Tom, but I really must be getting off…"

"Whatever secret you're hiding is going to get you killed. You would be best to leave immediately."

Edmund didn't need telling twice, he was planning on doing just that, as soon as he found his mother and sisters. Trust their luck to walk right into enemy territory.

* * *

><p>Morgana sat down beside the river, enjoying the cool breeze. She'd walked through the village for what seemed like hours, trying to get answers. But everyone was either indoors or scuttled around like there was something to be terrified about. Perhaps there was but nobody would tell her anything…<p>

"What would a fine young lady like you be doing in a village like this?" asked a voice from behind her.

Slowly, she turned around to face the stranger. Perhaps he could answer her questions. She had to learn to relax. _Not everyone is your enemy_.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he apologized.

"It's fine. Honestly," she said. He couldn't know she was hiding something or there'd be endless questions which would be far too difficult to explain without being trapped in a web of lies.

"You're staying at the inn. I saw you arrive."

"I got attacked in the forest… By bandits…"

"Your hands look like they could use treating. Come, I will have my daughter see to them."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. I really must return."

"You will catch your death of cold out here. At least come and warm up. If only for a few minutes."

There was something not quite right about this man. He was not some average villager. She had to get out of here.

"I'm afraid I really must insist on leaving…" she said, trying not to appear too determined.

"What did you say your name was?" he asked, as he put a hand on her upper arm.

"I didn't," she responded, perhaps a little too viciously, pulling her arm away and standing up.

"It seems the rumours are true, dear. Morgana. Right in our hands."

All too late, Morgana realised the danger and as she attempted to flee, his hand caught her by the wrist and pulled her to face him. She tried to scream, although she knew no-one would dare help her, but he covered her mouth with his hand. Lifting her knee, she jerked it with as much strength as possible into his groin. The man released her and doubled over with a groan. Morgana didn't waste any more time and broke into a run back to the village. Was there nowhere safe now?

* * *

><p>"Come on, Alana, hurry up!" complained Arya, already at the stairs.<p>

"I'm coming!" shouted Alana, removing the apron.

Rushing to follow her sister, she collided with her back and almost tumbled down the narrow staircase before she managed to catch the frail bannister. She saw the reason soon enough. Three burly men who could only be guards had stormed in and were confronting the terrified innkeeper, asking almost inaudible questions.

"We know they're here," said one of them, particularly loudly.

Alana had heard enough. She grabbed Arya's hand and dragged her down the stairs again. There was no doubt who the guards were talking about. Someone had found out. But the question was, why were they being hunted? The men certainly were not bandits, their clothes were too expensive and well-made. It wouldn't be long before the woman told them everything, she had no reason to protect them.

"We have to get out of here," said Alana.

"No way, genius," retorted Arya, sarcastically.

"Shut up, Arya."

"You're always so serious!"

"Someone has to be…"

"I told you something was wrong."

"Not now! Look, there's a door."

Sticking her tongue out rather childishly, Arya followed her over to the half hidden doorway. After a few tugs from Alana, it creaked open, revealing a dark passage. Shrugging, Arya disappeared into the darkness, her sister reluctantly following and closing the door behind them. Even now, they heard footsteps thudding on the stairs.

"Hurry," whispered Alana.

Hand in hand, to prevent them from getting separated, they tore off down the tunnel, hardly caring that they had no idea which way to go or if they were about to bump into anything. At last, there was a spot of light; another doorway.

"This could just lead us right back to them…" Alana pointed out.

"Well we can't go back," responded Arya.

Thankfully, the passage led to a dim corridor with a door at the other end. Nodding at each other, they ran for it, slamming it shut behind them, running down the alleyway they found themselves in. Nobody was out. The place was like a ghost town. And for good reason; pacing the village were more of the men, over a dozen.

"You have got to be kidding me," groaned Alana.

"Come on, Edmund said he was going to the forest," said Arya and the two girls started running again.

* * *

><p>The guards were everywhere. Edmund noticed them walking the length of the village, looking for them most likely. No-one else was about, barricaded in their houses from fear. Thankfully, they clearly hadn't found anyone yet. That didn't help him though…<p>

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw the rusty red of Arya's tunic disappear behind another house. Was it worth the risk…? Deciding he had no better options, he threaded through the alleys, ducking every time a guard came close and miraculously managing to evade them.

On the other side, he spotted the dark curls of his sisters, crouched in a doorway, whispering to each other. He ran to them, forgetting to hide. But by some wonder he wasn't spotted, again.

"Arya, Alana," he whispered.

"Edmund, you gave me a fright," Alana chided him with a half-hearted swat.

"Sorry but there isn't a lot of time," responded Edmund.

"Who are they?" asked Arya, indicating the increasingly impatient men.

"I have no idea. But it can't be good for us. Come on."

Before they could run, Morgana appeared behind them, her hair in disarray. She hugged them each in turn, tightly, almost refusing to pull apart. But she did, for their sakes.

"You have to run. As far away from here as possible, alright? Try to get back to Camelot," she said to them all.

"No, mother. I'm not leaving," protested Arya.

"We can't run," added Alana.

"For me, sweetheart," responded Morgana.

"This isn't the solution," Edmund countered.

"Listen, the village is surrounded. I'll distract them for as long as possible. It's your best chance to get away," continued Morgana "I'm your mother, I have to protect you. I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to any of you."

"There can't be that many. We could fight them together," suggested Edmund.

"We don't know who they are or why they are searching for us, son. But they know us. It's too dangerous." She tried to think of more reasons. "If I get captured, I can't worry about having to look after you all. Please. I need to do what I have to do…"

The protests continued.

"I love you all. Now run," said Morgana.

Horrified, Alana watched as their mother ignored them, leaping out into the guards' vision, brandishing her sword. She wasted no time however and grabbed her siblings' hands, pulling them after her. They had to get away or it would all be for nothing.

* * *

><p>"Looking for me, gentlemen," she said in a sing song voice.<p>

"Get her," ordered one of them and half of them surged forwards.

"Uh-uh-uh." She taunted them before dancing away in the opposite direction of her children, still teasing them to divert their attention.

Their blows were clumsy and angry and easily deflectable until they managed to surround her. She kept on swiping and stabbing but she was losing fast. Praying that her children had been given a long enough head start, she plunged her sword into one of the men and then retrieved it, attempting to duck through the space. One of them caught onto her trick and grabbed her by the hair, yanking hard and sending her sprawling on her back.

"Where are they?" demanded the man.

"I'm alone," she protested.

"Sure you are, princess. Tell. Me. Where. They. Are."

"Not here."

"The king is not going to be happy about this, Morgana, so you better start talking!"

"And what king might that be?"

"Odin. His majesty does not take kindly to being messed around."

"Neither do I!" She aimed a kick at his shin and rolled over before someone pulled her up and pressed her to them, a thick arm around her neck, holding her successfully.

"Tell me where they are!"

"I don't think I will."

His fist hovered in the air, prepared to strike her to get the answers he desired.

"What on earth will King Odin do when he sees the sight of me? I am a noblewoman after all," said Morgana, silkily.

"Restrain her!" demanded the leader "Send some riders to search for those damned kids. NOW!"

The men scurried to do as he bid and Morgana's arms were pulled behind her back and iron manacles were locked around her wrists despite her struggles. When she kicked out again, a length of rope was tied tightly around her ankles, rendering her completely immobile.

"You won't get away with this, you bastard!" she cursed, attempting to spit at him.

"AND GAG HER!"


	27. Lord Dustan

A/N - Here's the next chapter! And it's not as bad for Morgana as you might assume. I'm not _that_ cruel to my baby. The show done enough of that :( I hope I wrote the Arthur/Merlin scene ok because I'm really not that interested in their characters (mostly because I always will be on Morgana's side and it makes me automatically against everyone else) and if it wasn't for him being the other half of my OTP, I would never write about Arthur...

OK, pointless rambling over, thank you for all the support and reviews, it means more than you can imagine XD I hope you enjoy this and again, please review.

Rachel xxx

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><p><strong>27) Lord Dustan<strong>

As soon as she was pulled from the horse, her eyes snapped open and she was instantly alert. She'd learned over the years, when it was evident that her nightmares could not be controlled, to sleep whenever she could. And, since she knew it was futile to struggle when she'd already been bound, she'd drifted off to sleep, the galloping movement strangely soothing.

Once her eyes adjusted, she looked towards the castle in front of her. It was massive, perhaps able to compete with Camelot, but it was not as impressive. Odin's kingdom. What he wanted with her, she had no idea. For once, there was nothing she'd done to enrage him as she had with those bandits. Still, she supposed she'd find out soon enough.

"Is that any way to treat a lady?" a booming voice resounded through the courtyard.

One of the men approached her quickly and removed the cloth from her mouth. She looked up to see who had come to her aid and was confronted with a young man who looked to be a very adept warrior. Yet, despite his fierceness, she believed she had no reason to fear him. He seemed almost…kind.

"Untie her," he commanded.

"My lord, she is an aggressive thing. I do not think it wise…" said the leader, a slight stutter of nervousness in his voice.

"Do you challenge me? I am sure the lady was only defending herself with your dreadful manners. Release her!"

Angered, the embarrassed man strode towards her, whipping out a knife. Morgana barely managed to keep the smirk off her face as he slashed the ropes around her ankles and finally her wrists. She rubbed her chafed skin, silently debating whether to try and make a break for it. In the end, she decided without much thought that she didn't stand a chance against them and she didn't want to be left in the hands of the leader again, what with his temper. It was more sensible to wait.

"Thank you… Lord..." said Morgana, believing that sweet-talking a high-ranking lord would serve her best.

"Lord Dustan, King Odin's right-hand man. At your service," he answered, flashing her a grin.

"I offer my greatest thanks, Lord Dustan," she continued, smiling at him in a somewhat demure way, catching on quickly that he was trying to flirt with her. God, any man she came into contact with either wanted to kill her or kiss her. Except Arthur.

"Come, my lady." He extended a hand but she lowered her head in refusal. There was only so far she was willing to go. Plus, she had still been captured and she was not about to lower her guard any time soon. She was ushered forward by the disappointed man and complied, glad she was not being dragged instead.

* * *

><p>Morgana had refused his offer of a bath almost instantly. She was determined not to be bribed by them. The nightgown was accepted, however and once he'd left, she'd shed her rags and pulled the clean garment over her head instantly. Her hair was matted and she spent the time brushing it carefully, looking out of the window.<p>

The sun set and no candles were provided, submerging her in darkness. She tried to open the door, not surprised when she found it locked before knocking and calling out for a guard. No reply was offered and she guessed that kindness only stretched so far. Hunger gnawed at her stomach but she made do with the water, knowing it was better than nothing.

At least there was a proper bed, much like her own in Camelot. There was nothing else to do tonight, so she slid between the sheets and curled up, to afford herself some protection and extra warmth. Sleeping in the enemy's clutches wasn't exactly ideal, but what choice did she have? It was either be defenceless in sleep or be weak when the time came when she needed to be strong.

Sleep didn't come quickly and her thoughts soon turned to her children. She was sure that they would be able to make it to Camelot, the question was how long it would take them. Without her, they would surely be safer. No-one held any grudges with them and they were harder to recognise, she knew. All she hoped was that they could get word to Arthur as quickly as possible before she was forced to try and escape by herself. Would he think she'd abandoned him when he received no word? Or would he sense something was wrong? Those thoughts on her mind, she drifted into a dreamless sleep. It seems the future was to remain hidden to her tonight.

* * *

><p>The next morning, a young girl of around thirteen shook her shoulder. She started awake and reached for the dagger she always kept under her pillow instinctively before remembering a split second later.<p>

"T-the k-king r-requested that I-I p-prepare you for h-him," stuttered the girl, looking down, terrified.

"Relax, child, I won't harm you," said Morgana, kindly, removing herself from the sanctuary of the bed "What's your name?"

"B-Belle, milady."

"There is no need for the formalities, Belle. Come, sit with me."

The maid reluctantly followed her to the table where she'd laid a breakfast of bread, cheese, meat and some watered down wine. Morgana was ravenous but she composed herself and prepared the breakfast as she normally would, except she cut a portion for Belle minus the wine, feeling like she needed someone to talk to, even if they were so young.

"Milady, I couldn't possibly…"

"It's Morgana. And I insist."

"If you're absolutely sure…"

"Eat, Belle, you look like you could do with some proper food. Do you have family at home?"

"No, mi-Morgana. I live in the kitchens…"

The former ward nodded her head slowly as she picked at the bread and eventually decided that her appetite had left her and sipped the wine instead, disappointed when she realised just how watered down it was. She passed the remainder of her food to Belle, determining she needed it more, who didn't argue this time and walked over to the window, staring out of the window to a slowly rising citadel.

Afterwards, Belle insisted that she had a bath and as much as Morgana protested, it was wonderful to feel the warm, almost too hot, water relieve her tense and sore muscles as the grime was removed, leaving her skin pale and soft again. She'd dismissed the young girl to fetch another dress, deeming the one the king had chosen far too revealing; not wishing to be paraded around like some whore. Plus, she preferred to wash herself. It gave her much-needed time to think and the one thing she craved – privacy.

Unfortunately, the bath was not as long as she'd hoped and she soon found herself having to get out, insisting on drying herself and only asking for help with the difficult ribbons of the corset. Belle tied the intricate pattern with nimble fingers and led her mistress over to the vanity, beginning to rub and brush her hair alternately.

Once everything was completed with surprising efficiency, Morgana rose to inspect herself in the mirror. The new dress was not much better and the bare skin of her breasts were visible with the draping neckline. Aside from that, it was not too bad a gown, the emerald green accenting her eyes and hiding the bruises she'd acquired on her arms with its long draping sleeves. Her hair tumbled down her back, clean and free. As much as she hated being dressed up for some unknown purpose by some unknown king, it did feel good to be restored to her former glory. It really did boost her confidence and her strength.

"Morgana, the king awaits your presence," said Belle.

"Of course," responded the lady, turning away from the mirror and following her out of the door.

* * *

><p>"Lady Morgana. You are very welcome here," said King Odin, a smirk on his face.<p>

"Perhaps you would tell me exactly why I have been brought here?" questioned Morgana. She stepped forward and the guards who had flanked her stood to the side, observing her every move.

"It is irrelevant, my lady."

"Then I'm afraid I shall be leaving immediately, _my lord_."

"That won't be possible."

"You better start talking, Odin. I do _not_ appreciate games."

Instead of getting angry, as she had expected, he merely laughed, the lords around him joining it. If there was one thing that irked Morgana, it was being mocked.

"So the tales were not lies. You are indeed a spirited thing," he said before she could speak.

"I won't ask you again!" she repeated, a spark in her eye.

"As much as I like a woman with fire, I am a king and you shall respect me as such."

"Well, I am a queen and you shall tell me what the hell I am doing here."

"I'm warning you, Morgana!"

Her eyes flashed with anger but she didn't respond, instead glaring at him.

"You may or may not know that I am declaring war on Camelot. It makes no difference. While I am confident that my army is superior to Arthur Pendragon's, you will ensure our victory," said Odin with an arrogant grin.

"I will not!" retorted Morgana.

"Don't fear my dear; your lover will be spared as long as he surrenders Camelot. And you, will guarantee that."

"Arthur is NOT my lover! And he will not surrender!"

"He will unless he wants to see your pretty head mounted on my walls!"

"You arrogant bastard! You're a fool to believe that you even stand a chance against Camelot."

"Listen, lady, I am fast growing impatient with you. We can do this two ways; you start showing some respect and you can stay comfortable in those chambers or I'll lock you in my dungeons with only the rats and the worst of my citizens for the remainder of your stay. Choose wisely because there is no second chance!"

Morgana wanted to tell him to shove his comfort up his arse along with a spear, but she refrained and smiled at him through gritted teeth, not saying anything, knowing that any _respectful_ words would come out as bitter and exactly how she felt.

"You are wise, my lady. Escort her back to her chambers," ordered Odin, triumphant.

"And how long will I remain here?" demanded Morgana, trying to gauge how long she had to escape.

"Manners, Morgana, manners. It does not concern you. I wouldn't want to spill all of our secrets now," he responded with a laugh "Remember, any trouble and it's the dungeons. Otherwise, your needs shall be catered for."

"How kind you are," she drawled before flouncing out of the chambers, the guards scurrying after her.

* * *

><p>"Merlin!" called Arthur.<p>

"What _now_?" responded his servant.

"I need you to fetch my chainmail."

"But I only just finished polishing it and you haven't got another tournament for _weeks_. Why do you need it _now_?"

"_Mer_lin! You're a servant; it's in the job requirement."

"You've been like this ever since Morgana left," stated Merlin.

"What on earth are you talking about, Merlin? I'd not seen Morgana in years, why would her leaving affect me in any way?" retorted Arthur, too quickly.

"You love her!"

"_Me_. Love _Morgana_. Merlin, the idea is completely and utterly ridiculous."

"Ever since she left you've been an insufferable prat."

"I have not! You have just been even more _useless_ than usual!"

"You hardly ever smile now."

"In case you forgot, _Mer_lin, the kingdom is recovering from a _war_! My apologies if I haven't been throwing feasts ever night!"

"See, even more of a prat than usual."

"I DO NOT LOVE MORGANA!"

"Of course you don't," smirked Merlin, dodging the flurry of items that were aimed at his head.

"Perhaps you need to see, Gaius. Your brain is working even less than usual!"

"I'm definitely not blind though. You love her."

"Merlin, do you want to keep this job?"

"Oh, come on, Arthur, is it really that hard to admit that you like her?"

"It's none of your concern."

"Are you embarrassed about loving her?"

"What? No! Morgana… Morgana's the kindest, most beautiful, strong, exasperating, infuriating..." trailed Arthur, a small smile on his lip "Wait… no… I do NOT love her."

"Yes, you do, you prat. She loves you, too."

"No she doesn't…"

"Just because she told you that, it doesn't mean it's true. She doesn't want to hurt you."

"And what would you know about love?"

"You'd be surprised."

"Well, it doesn't matter now anyway. She's gone and she's probably never going to come back. It's all my fault."

"She just needs time, that's all."

"Hmm… Go and get that chainmail Merlin before I start practicing my sword-fighting on _you_," ordered Arthur.

"Right away, clotpole," he murmured before disappearing.

"Merlin!" shouted Arthur. God, the man was almost as infuriating as Morgana was. He cursed himself. Why did he keep thinking about her? She'd said herself nothing could ever happen between them but he couldn't leave it. Loathe as he was to admit it, he loved her with all his heart… He wished she'd write to him. Just to let him know she was safe…

* * *

><p><span>AN - Oh, and don't worry, nothing will happen between Morgana/Dustan except perhaps she uses him. Never fear! This is strictly ArMor.

Quick Question: Any particular things/scenes you want to see in the next few chapters? I will try and accommodate them :)


	28. Predicament

A/N - Here's the next chapter and we get to see Morgana taunting Odin and the children and their journey. Please leave me a review XD

* * *

><p><strong>28) Predicament<strong>

Morgana brushed her hair for what seemed to be the millionth time. She'd been here for three days now but to her it felt more like two weeks. Already she was bored out of her mind. There had been a few books left for her but she had no care to read about damsels in distress; she was not that far gone, not yet.

"I brought you lunch, my lady," said Belle, too cheerfully.

"Thank you, Belle," she responded, rising from the chair and seating herself at the table.

Sighing, she methodically picked up a strip of chicken and began chewing it. Odin never allowed her to have a knife 0r even a fork, probably in case she tried to maim someone or maybe even kill herself. The fact that he recognized her as dangerous was comforting but she didn't feel very dangerous locked away in a room doing nothing to help her situation. Would Odin think her as weak?

"I'm going to get out of here," said Morgana, abruptly standing, the plate left mostly untouched.

"H-how?" questioned Belle.

"I will request an audience with the king."

"But…"

"There's nothing Odin can do to me, child. I'm his hostage, he will not harm me less he lose the war."

"Do you think he'll release you?"

"Oh no, Belle, he most definitely won't but I'm done behaving myself. If he's going to keep me here, then I intend to fight him until the very end."

"His majesty doesn't like being trifled with, Morgana. He won't take kindly to you defying him."

"I've got to try and get information to escape. I can take you with me when I go."

"Really? But… but why?"

"You don't deserve to be here. I know what it's like to live under a tyrant's rule and I wouldn't wish it on anyone, let alone someone like you."

"Be careful, Morgana, please… Odin is dangerous…"

"So can I!"

The lady nodded, choosing not to outright lie to her friend. Being careful was the last thing on her mind at the moment though. She pulled the door open and one of three guards spun to face her, sword raised.

"I require an audience with the king," demanded Morgana, sharply.

"On what grounds?" asked the guard.

"That is none of your concern." She slammed the door in his face and was satisfied as she heard their indecisive grumbling and finally acceptance.

* * *

><p>"Do you have any idea where we are?" asked Edmund, as they stopped for a rest in yet another empty clearing.<p>

"A forest," supplied Arya with a smirk.

"Haha, Arya, I'm serious."

"Well, we've been heading north for two days now," interjected Alana.

"How do you even know that?" questioned Arya.

"The moss. William taught me how," replied the youngest with a smile.

"I hope that's all he taught you," said Edmund with a mock serious expression.

"Of course, brother. I remain perfectly innocent. I am only 12, after all," drawled Alana.

"What age were you, Edmund? I recall very clearly catching you kissing Lady Laura in an alcove when you were but 10," smirked Arya.

"Shut up!"

Arya laughed and smiled at her sister as Edmund blushed furiously, unable to deny his peck with the lady back in Lot's kingdom on his 10th birthday.

"Look, there's smoke!" said Alana, suddenly, pointing over the hills.

"So?" asked Arya, hazy from lack of sleep.

"So, that means there's a village. We can find out where we are," added Edmund.

"Yeah, and if one more person tries to hand me over to some bloody king then I will actually cut my hair off and turn into a peasant boy!" She grumbled.

"There's something I would pay to see!" He smirked and she swatted half-heartedly at him, not truly annoyed.

"Come on, it's almost nightfall," said Alana, already heading in the direction.

"I think we should start travelling at nightfall. We could be walking straight into Odin's men in broad daylight," suggested Edmund.

"What difference does it make? We've travelled through the night and we still got captured… TWICE!" retorted Arya.

"She's right," chipped in Alana.

"That bastard Odin could be doing god knows what to mother while he plans his stupid war. We have got to get to Camelot fast and warn Arthur. There's no point walking in the dark," continued Arya.

"Fine!" relented Edmund, raising his hands in defeat "Let's just go."

* * *

><p>"Morgana. I hope this is important. If you hadn't figured it out, I am rather busy at the moment," said Odin, sipping from an excessively ornate goblet, lounging in his throne.<p>

"You look it," she couldn't resist the sarcastic remark from escaping.

"Somehow, I can't think of a reason why what I do is any concern of yours."

"Why don't you start with you holding me in your rotten kingdom?"

"I wondered when you'd start fighting me. Planning a war is always so dull…"

"You are a fool, Odin. The Knights of Camelot are the best in the five kingdoms. They could easily take on your scrawny army blindfolded and without a weapon."

"Don't test my patience, Morgana." He was starting with the warnings and the threats again but this time, the lady had well and truly had enough. She was not going to stand for it.

"Or you'll do what, Odin? Bring in one of your pathetic soldiers to beat me into submission? Send me to the executioner?" she taunted, her confident smirk finding its place again.

"Don't test me," he repeated, his eyes growing darker at her blatant disrespect.

"Why don't you make me?" she retorted in a sing song voice "Come and show me what happens to those who tell you the oh-so-painful truth. Kill me."

The king leapt out of his throne in a second and lunged for her, grabbing her arm with fingers that would definitely leave a bruise. Morgana's smirked remained firmly in place, seemingly unaffected by his iron grip. She'd had years of putting up with similar treatment, but he didn't know that.

"Is that the best you can do?" she drawled. If she was stuck here, she was going to have some fun winding him up. He wouldn't kill her and he couldn't harm her much for fear of Arthur rejecting her and rendering him powerless.

"You stupid, arrogant, good for nothing bitch!" he yelled, releasing her roughly.

"Insulting yourself?" she twirled a loose strand of hair around her finger casually.

"I'll show you what it means to defy me, wench!"

"Do your worst!"

Finally, she got some response from him as he flew into a rage. At first, she was mildly startled by his sudden ferocity and thought he might detach her head from her body right there but then but then she felt his vice grip on her upper arm and he was hauling her to the door. Of course he wouldn't kill her. She was valuable, far too valuable. And her confidence was reinstated, her fire bubbling in her chest once more. There was not much he could. That made her smile wider. Even as a hostage, she still held the upper hand.

* * *

><p>"You look familiar," said a boy as they entered the village.<p>

Edmund glanced at his sisters to see Arya roll her eyes. She would have no problem complaining about how they should have stayed on the road. He felt like rolling his eyes too. If they were captured again, he might as well be walking around with a sign on his back.

"We've never met before, I assure you," replied Alana when no-one else seemed ready to make a move.

"You still look familiar…"

"There are a lot of people who look alike."

"But you three don't look like you belong here. You are a noble."

"If we were nobles, we wouldn't be here," interjected Edmund.

"Well I don't know why you are here but I know who you are. The prince. And his sisters."

At this, Edmund was rendered speechless. Was it really that obvious? Did everyone look at them and know they were royalty, even in their dreadful state? Arya, however, looked furious.

"I'll have you know that I am far superior to my brother. Men tend to be very stupid creatures," she said with an air of confidence.

"Arya, this isn't the time," snapped Edmund.

"So I was right?" the boy looked surprisingly pleased with himself.

"Look, fine, yes, you were right. Now, listen. This is important. Where are we?" said Arya, impatient.

"Ealdor."

The name seemed familiar but they didn't have the time to think about where the village was placed on the map.

"Yes, where?"

"The border. Of Camelot."

Realisation hit her. Merlin's village. The only reason it had stuck somewhat was because of the village only just becoming classed as Camelot land. This was great news. Hunith. She could help them.

"Could you take us to Hunith?" asked Alana, having the same thought but voicing it much more politely.

"I suppose…"

The boy ambled off further into the village and the three siblings followed.

"I thought you said you could read the moss. We weren't going north at all," said Arya, playfully.

"Well, William was only twelve," responded Alana, indignant "Besides, like you said, men are so stupid. He was probably only trying to impress me."

"The main thing is that we ended up in familiar territory," Edmund cut in, to end their bickering before it could begin.

* * *

><p>Morgana laughed to further antagonise Odin as he half-dragged her down to the dungeons, unlocking one of the empty cell doors in an awkward one-handed motion that she found particularly hilarious. If she'd chose to, she could have made a run for it but as it was, she was far too amused.<p>

The next thing she knew, she hit the rough straw on her knees but the thick swathes of purple fabric protected her from the worse of it. She was on her feet just as he slammed the door closed and locked it.

"How creative you are," she mocked him as she rearranged her skirts, unfazed by her predicament.

"You will remain here until you learn your place, wench. I am revoking all privileges until then," he said, still fuming with her.

"Is one of my _punishments_ to be forced to look at your ugly face all day?" retorted Morgana, folding her arms across her chest.

"I shall return in two days. Have a pleasant night, _my lady_," he laughed at her.

"Oh I will, Odin," she said, coldly "I'd rather spend the rest of my life in this cell than take anything from you."

"We shall see, dear. Let's just hope that I am feeling forgiving on the day that comes."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible. If I recall, you are riding out to battle and Arthur is going to win. You have no chance!"

"Go to hell!"

"You first!"

The two were locked in a battle of wills and eventually he broke the connection, storming off down the passageway. She sank down to the straw and smiled, finally feeling like she had done _something_ productive.

* * *

><p>"Good heavens," exclaimed Hunith when she laid eyes on them "You look like you've been through a battle."<p>

"We…" Edmund tried to say.

"Come on, come inside. It's freezing out here and you'll catch your death of cold," continued the kindly woman, ushering them all in to her small cottage "Wait here and I'll fetch you some hot soup."

The trio sat down on the rickety seats offered, the warmth and kindness comforting. Hunith reappeared and set a bowl down in front of them. There were no complaints as they ate hurriedly, the watery brew with a few vegetables didn't taste half as bad when you were starving.

"Thank you, Hunith," said Alana with a grateful smile.

"Nonsense, dear," responded Merlin's mother "Now perhaps you might tell me why the royal family are wandering through the forests alone."

"It's a long story…" added Edmund.

"Where's your mother? Where's Morgana?"

"Odin's men captured her. She told us to run. We need to get back to Camelot and tell Arthur. He's planning a war."

"That's awful, child."

"We were already captured but we escaped," said Arya, half annoyed.

"I will accompany you to Camelot," decided Hunith.

"That won't be necessary. You need to stay here. This is your home."

"It is high time I visited my son anyway. You can't go wandering around all on your own. God knows what could happen."

"But…" Alana tried to protest.

"No arguments. Go into my bedroom and have a rest. We will leave at dawn. I'll see to the packing," finished Hunith.

Her tone left no room for negotiation and the three children trudged to the bed, curling up and falling asleep almost instantly, their escapades exhausting them.


	29. Seduction

A/N - I apologise for the delay. My laptop charger broke and I didn't have any money to buy a new one etc. But you don't want to hear that.

Please leave a review if you can spare a minute :) It would mean a lot. Hope you enjoy.

Warning - This chapter has some minor sexual content in it so kids, don't read XD

* * *

><p><strong>29) Seduction<strong>

Morgana paced the length of her prison, her mind numb with boredom. She'd been locked in her cell for five… six days now. Being a highborn lady, she hadn't been treated as badly as she'd expected. Meals were brought to her three times a day and they were always relatively fresh. Still, she'd refused to eat most of it, only nibbling at bread for the duration. There was no way she wanted anything off of him. The guards couldn't get away from her fast enough it seemed but they remained respectful of her and mindful of her station.

Not once had Odin visited her. He'd probably realised just how much trouble she would be and had decided to leave her down here until it was time to ride out. Maybe this hadn't been the best plan after all… It left her with no escape route now… And that was when an idea hit her.

Gulping down the rest of her water so her voice wouldn't sound so hoarse, she called out for one of the guards. Footsteps approached and she quickly slumped against the wall, feigning weakness.

"Yes, my lady?" he asked, not as nervous as the others.

"I fear a sickness has taken told of me," she replied, trying to make it convincing.

"But… but you've been well taken care of…"

Morgana refrained from snorting in amusement. Odin and his people had a strange meaning for the word. She couldn't fathom why anyone could ever think that just because you were fed in the dungeons, that was care. Concealing the laugh as a throaty cough, she pushed herself further into the corner, so he couldn't see her very well.

"I am not used to such dark, damp conditions," she said, using every shred of superiority, reminding him of exactly who she was.

"The king has ordered you be detained," the guard responded, clearly unsure of what to do.

"I'm sure I am not of any worth to your king dead. And you wouldn't want to displease him now, would you?" she taunted him, finding this far too easy "I require a physician forthwith."

"M-my l-lady…"

"Need I remind you who I am? I doubt the king will find your incompetence any other way than what I do. I, however, am far more lenient than him."

The boy fumbled for the keys from his belt and she quietly rose to her feet, ready. He seemed to take an age to unbolt the door. She would never understand why everyone feared Odin as much as they all did; he was acting like a child playing at king, no sense which was supposed to come with age, only blind ambition.

"Come on then," said the guard, the door creaking as it swung open.

"Are you a fool, boy? I require assistance," responded Morgana, tartly, feeling slightly sorry when he paled in the dull light.

"O-of course, my lady. Forgive me."

"Hurry up, then."

When he came closer, she kicked out, catching him on the shin. The surprise was enough to immobilise him and she took her chance, running past him and into the echoing passageway, choosing a turn at random. She didn't even know what her plan was past this. Perhaps just to get Odin to remember about her again, to show her defiance, to stop the damned boredom of counting bricks over and over again…

"Gotcha!" said an unknown guard, seizing her by the wrist.

"It's near a miracle, Sir Knight, that you should be able to do your job," quipped Morgana, having more fun than she'd had in a while.

"Bernie is a mug, I am not. You aren't getting around me with your silky tricks and wily charms, woman. Not me."

"I would never dream of it, Sir Knight."

The arrogance seemed to exude from him at this.

"I like a challenge," she added, for good measure.

* * *

><p>Awaiting the presence of the mighty King Odin, Morgana paced her cell, concocting all the insults she could think of. The knight had been positively furious with her but had been unable to do anything to her. But it wasn't so much fun as angering Odin.<p>

"Morgana."

The lady stopped and turned to face her visitor, surprised to find that it wasn't the king but his faithful lord, Dustan. What shocked her more was that he didn't seem at all angry, merely amused.

"Does the king's little helper bring a message?" asked Morgana, sickly sweet.

"His grace has not been informed of your escapade yet, my lady. He has more essential preparation to do than discipline you," replied Dustan.

"Are you as delusional as your sovereign, my lord? Camelot will not surrender for me. I would be damned before I allow it," continued Morgana, a new plan evolving.

"Young Steve came to me shouting that he demanded you be punished. Whatever did you do to him?" Dustan skipped her question easily, a small smile tugging the corners of his lips.

"I do not enjoy being locked away. It's hardly my fault that your guards are completely hopeless and effortless targets."

"Then perhaps you should behave yourself, my lady."

"Come now, where is the fun in that?"

"It's not particularly fun preparing an army either. But we all have our roles in this war."

"Well maybe we should have some fun just now."

Morgana cocked her head to the side in a very suggestive fashion, flashing him her brightest smile. He looked like he was struggling to contain his desires. Trying not to ruin her performance, she casually shrugged, the silk material of her purple dress slipping down to reveal her bare shoulder. All care forgotten; Dustan surged forward and turned the key in the lock, practically leaping towards her.

Her back collided with the wall hard as he sucked hard at her lower lip, his hand loosely pinning her wrists above her head. She felt guilt well up inside her for Arthur. _He need never know_, she told herself, _you are doing this for Camelot's victory_. She snapped out of it. There could only be one chance at this.

"Take me to your bedchamber," she whispered in his ear.

Luckily, she was met with no resistance as he released her and pushed her towards the door. He was in such a state of lust that she was positive she could make a run for it. But she wanted to succeed this time, and for that to happen she had to take it slowly.

* * *

><p>Confidence exuding her, Morgana stood in the centre of Dustan's chambers, unlacing the back of her dress with nimble fingers before pushing it down, leaving her only in the corset that she'd been forced to wear. Continuing her act, she made her way over to the lavish bed and lay down, twirling a lock of raven hair around her finger.<p>

"My lord!" came the shouting of guards as they furiously banged on the door.

Kept from his desires, Dustan sighed and went to answer them.

"Why have I been disturbed?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, my lord. The king has requested your presence in his chambers to go over strategy," answered the guard, quickly.

"Very well. I'm afraid I will have to change first though. I do not wish to present myself in front of the king in this attire."

"I'll inform his grace, sir."

The door was closed and Morgana let out a sigh of relief. This wasn't part of her plan but it could have been worse. Someone could have saw them and raised the alarm. The last thing she wanted was for it to become common knowledge that she was half-naked in the lord's chambers. It would not do her reputation any favours.

"Wait here, my lady. I shall return as soon as possible," he apologised, looking incredibly disappointed that it was to be prolonged further, before pulling on his cloak and exiting.

Waiting for the click in the lock, Morgana smirked to herself when none came. Honestly, it was anyone's guess how such a man could gain such a high up position. Any prisoner could seduce him and escape. Positive he wouldn't return, she got up and went to his closet, selecting a pair of breeches and a tunic that would make moving around easier. If anyone saw her, her garments wouldn't matter, but it would be much harder to conceal herself in this.

Waiting a further five minutes, she slipped out of the chambers and closed the door behind her, confidence building when she discovered it to be empty. It was time to act.

* * *

><p><span>AN - The next chapter shall focus on the children and Arthur finding out about her kidnapping etc with a little bit of Morgana. I will try to get it up soon XD


	30. Strategy

A/N - Here's the next chapter. I hope you didn't have to wait too long :) I made this chapter longer than usual and it has scenes from all the characters; the kids, Arthur, Morgana, a little from Merlin too (even though I'm awful at writing their relationship sadly). 

Please leave me some feedback and suggestions/predictions of what will happen. Do you like what paths the characters are going down? The path of the storyline itself? 

I promise that the next chapter is going to be more exciting and dramatic with much more action XD Also, there will be a sort of twist that complicates the ArMor relationship further. 

Happy reading, dearies :) And remember to please review if you can spare a minute XD I know, I know, I'm shameless. I just love them! The more I get, the faster I write because I want to please you all. Thank you to all previous ones, too. I love each and every one I get!

Rachel xxx

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><p><strong>30) Strategy<strong>

To her annoyance, the heels of her shoes clicked quietly off the stone floor. As much as she didn't want to be heard by anyone, she was not going to walk through the castle barefoot. _Better hurry then_, she thought. Abandoning her earlier plan, she quickened her pace and looked for a lone servant.

The gods seemed to be on her side, because, as she turned the corner, she spotted a girl of around nine walking with her head down, clearly in a hurry. She pulled her into the shadows with her, clamping a hand over her mouth before she could call for the guards.

"It's ok. It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you," whispered Morgana, guilt welling up in her at the girl's terrified look "I promise."

Running a hand through the child's hair to comfort her as she released her, she knelt down to her height, hoping that she wouldn't have to intimidate her further.

"Listen, I need your help, ok. Can you do that for me?"

"I-I can't," stammered the girl, frantically shaking her head and backing away from her.

"No harm will come to you. I promise. You have to trust me," said Morgana, as calm as she could.

"No. No. No."

"Please, child. I have to get home. There's a war coming. If I can get out of here, then I will be able to protect you… your family…"

"The king will have me executed…"

"I won't let him. He'll never even find out it was you. And if he does, then I'll take all of the blame," said Morgana, realising that this was much harder than she'd thought "I just really need you to do one small thing for me."

"And the king will never find out?"

"No. I swear to you on my father's grave."

"What do you want me to do, my lady?"

"I need to send a message to Camelot, to tell Arthur what I plan to do."

"Ok... I'll help you, my lady."

"Thank you," smiled Morgana, restraining herself from embracing the girl in her happiness.

Too worried about getting the girl to help her, she never even noticed the knight sneak away after hearing the majority of the conversation; sneaking off to report back to his king.

* * *

><p>The Camelot gates loomed ahead of them and Edmund had never been so relieved before. Their pace had been understandably slower due to Hunith riding with them, but her presence had been a huge comfort to them. Even though they had rode out at the break of dawn, it was still well into the night now.<p>

"My lord, my ladies," said the surprised guards, as they came to greet the unlikely riding party "Where's…?"

"We need to see Arthur," interrupted Arya, breathless.

"Of course, my princess."

Dismounting quickly, Alana instructed the guard to settle Hunith in guest chambers before following her siblings to the royal bedchambers without waiting for an escort. There were guards patrolling the corridors, more so than before, but none stopped to ask, probably because they were moving too fast.

"Arthur!" shouted Edmund, pounding the door, impatiently.

Pausing for a moment, the young prince was about to knock again when the door was flung open to reveal Arthur, sword in hand.

"Edmund? What the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Essetir," said Arthur, shocked by their appearance, yet ushering them inside quickly.

"Our mother was taken," replied Alana, the calmest one.

At that moment, Arthur swore his world was torn apart. It certainly felt like it. Morgana. His Morgana. This was all because of that stupid argument. He'd refused to write her a letter, fearing her rejection again. It was all his fault.

"By who?" he finally managed.

"Odin," answered Edmund "She was protecting us."

"Damn it!" shouted Arthur, sweeping the contents of his desk to the floor in a fit of rage.

Odin, the cowardly bastard, kidnapping Morgana just to force him to yield Camelot. And he would, if he couldn't get her back. She meant more to him than his kingdom. He should have known that she would be a target; should have known to send riders out to bring her back as soon as the declaration of war was made. All the things he should've done but didn't because he was too cowardly to make her believe that they could have a future together.

"Arthur, what are we going to do?" asked Arya.

Ignoring his almost-niece, Arthur strode out of his chambers, towards the throne room, demanding that two of the guards informed the counsel to meet immediately. He would get her back. Now. No more minutes wasted.

* * *

><p>"What do we do now?" asked Alana, eager to help.<p>

"You two should get some sleep," responded Edmund.

"Excuse me? And what, pray tell, do you plan to do that we can't?" retorted Arya.

"I am riding out with the knights."

"Then so are we."

"Arthur will never let you go. I've had the necessary training, I'm almost of age. He'll allow me to."

"You flatter yourself, Edmund. If Arthur says no, we will ride out alone. She's our mother as much as yours!"

"Arya's right. I can't just sit here and do nothing," added Alana.

"Mother won't be happy that you risked yourselves," said Edmund.

"And you think she'll be happy about you actually like an arrogant…?" Arya shot back.

"Besides, when have any of us actually stuck to the rules," interrupted Alana with a smile.

"Exactly. Now come on. I want to find out what's going on."

"Curiosity killed the cat, Arya," said Edmund with a roll of his eyes.

"It's a good job I'm not a cat then, isn't it," joked Arya.

Alana was already halfway down the corridor before they succeeded in catching up with her fast pace. She had always been the more serious one of the three, and the fact of her mother's capture left no room for even attempting to lighten the mood, for her personally anyway.

* * *

><p>Morgana managed to get back to her assigned chambers with no unwanted encounters (after coaxing the girl, Hannah, to take her back) and sank back onto the mattress, a sigh of relief escaping her at the softness under her, soothing her aching back. It was at times like this when she thought that defiance wasn't worth it. Then she remembered her captor and had the desire to gouge his eyes out. But that wouldn't be necessary, at least not yet. She'd completed her task and written the letter for her foster brother and sent it out on a raven. Tomorrow she would make her move.<p>

"My lady," exclaimed Belle in surprise as she entered the room.

"Belle, close the door and come here, child," she ordered, quietly.

The young maidservant did as she was bid, a look of uncertainty on her youthful features.

"I've been detained here for far too long, dangerously long. I'm escaping tomorrow," explained Morgana "Do you wish to come with me?"

"More than anything, my lady," replied Belle, her eyes lighting up.

"Wait until nightfall. Meet me at the stables. No later, Belle, do you understand? It won't take them long to figure out I've gone."

"I won't be late, Morgana."

"Can you do something else for me? I need you to bring any supplies that you can without causing suspicion; food, water, anything you can. It's a long journey back to Camelot and we will need our strength."

"Of course. I shall prepare tonight."

"You look far too excited. The guards are fools, but they are not that blind. No-one can know. No-one."

Belle nodded vigorously and then, without much of a fuss from Morgana, set about restoring her mistress's appearance after her stay in the dungeons. Finally, she was going to be free of this hell.

* * *

><p>"Sir Leon, gather your finest knights and ride out forthwith," ordered Arthur, as the trio entered the crowded hall "Odin has an advantage, but he will not for much longer."<p>

"My lord, are you sure it is wise to break up the army at such a time?" asked one of the higher ranking knights.

"The Lady Morgana is a queen in her own right, sir. We will not fight this war while her safety is compromised," replied Arthur, tightly. _A good king remains composed at the most difficult of times_, he reminded himself.

"Of course, my lord. I only meant…"

"It is forgotten, Sir Cain. I trust you will be able to keep our army in order in the event of an attack?"

"Yes, your grace."

Arthur scanned the room as he nodded towards him in response and noticed the three children, well, they weren't in the least childish, standing towards the back, unnoticed by most.

"Edmund, I want you to ride out with me. Sir Leon, your party will create a diversion for us. No-one will even know we're coming," stated Arthur.

"Your grace?" responded Edmund, questioningly "I… I would be honoured to."

"You are a great warrior, Edmund, and most importantly, I trust you with my life. The honour is mine."

"It's too dangerous," protested Sir Leon, nervously.

"I'm the king and it is my duty to protect my subjects. I failed to protect Morgana and I must make amends for that. I'm going to rescue her, with or without your support."

"You cannot leave Camelot during a war. There will be chaos," Sir Marco pointed out.

"Arya. Alana. I wish for you to rule in my stead. Should I fail to return, you will assume the throne. You are my only remaining family."

"Your grace, this is ridiculous. They are but children," said Sir Marco with a hint of bitterness.

"Children they may be, but they are wise and understand the ways of the kingdom. There is no-one better equipped here today."

"What if Odin learns of this? What if he launches an attack? A siege?" asked Sir Ronan.

"Then they shall do what is necessary at the time. I have full confidence in their abilities and that of the court."

"The city will fall!"

A cry of protests started, spreading like wildfire. Arya and Alana stood frozen, shocked at the turn of events. Never had they expected to be in charge of a kingdom. Neither of them had any experience and no wish to rule.

"Sir Ronan, I doubt you could do a better job at keeping this kingdom afloat. Who better to rule than Camelot's former ward's daughters? They have been raised as royalty and have plenty of intelligence and courage," said Arthur, impatient "My decision is final. I will hear no more of it."

Whispers of angers remained but gradually the courtiers and knights quietened. Alana, coming to terms with the situation faster than her sister, tugged her forward slightly, understanding that they would have to go to the king now as he slipped the ring off of his finger to hand full control to them.

* * *

><p>Dustan raced along the corridor. How could he have been so stupid? He'd left their hostage alone and unguarded in his bedchamber because he couldn't control himself. Odin was going to have his head, if he did not have hers first. The infuriating wench. Just when he'd been thinking of defending her to the king.<p>

As he threw open his chamber doors, he growled in anger to find them empty, even though he had suspected it. She was probably long gone to Camelot, along with any chance of survival for him. Yet there had been no signal of her escape. Of course, one of Odin's spies had saw him taking her to his bedchamber and he'd been forced to say he left her under heavy guard. Great. Her and her manipulating ways had got him in a whole load of trouble. Just as he was about to leave and alert someone, his eye caught a slip of paper propped against the pillows where she had once laid. He picked it up and read the elegant scrawl one would expect from a lady such as herself. A smile crossed his face.

* * *

><p>Morgana smirked to herself as the anticipated knock at her door finally came. She slipped out of bed and rearranged her lacy nightgown, walking to answer her visitor, ever footstep audible against the freezing floor. Honestly, they could have at least built a fire for her.<p>

"Lord Dustan, what a pleasure," she drawled.

"You are still here?" he said with obvious confusion.

"It would appear so, my lord."

"Yet you had a prime opportunity to escape."

"That I did, sir. Yet I am but a woman. I could never hope to elude such a fine army as yours. I've no desire to be locked up in a dungeon again. It is not befitting of someone of my status."

"Your reputation is that you are a fierce one, my lady. I did not think that you would be tamed so easily."

"Alas, my reputation is a mere rumour and my behaviour nothing more than a facade," said Morgana, bowing her head. God, this was difficult. There was nothing she wanted to do more than slap that arrogant smirk of triumph off of his face. It was so hard to act like a simpering woman unable to do anything for herself. She didn't know how the majority could do it all day every day. It was infuriating "I hope my lord will forgive me for my ungratefulness. You have been nothing but kind to me since I was brought here. I do apologise most sincerely."

"His grace shall be pleased, my lady. As am I. I do not like to see you harmed."

"My lord is truly charming and I wish that I could thank him adequately. Yet I fear that I am weary."

"I shall leave you to your slumber, my lady."

Morgana tried her hardest not to recoil as he took her hand and brushed his lips over her fingertips. Finally though, he left, and she locked the door immediately. Even though it was for a purpose, the man did not need his ego inflated any more than it already was. Nor did that oaf of a king. She was almost disappointed that he believed her so easily. As if a few nights in the dungeons would break her spirit, especially when she had Arthur to return to. The question of why he hadn't come for her had crossed her mind several times but she deduced that he merely did not know of her fate.

Sighing, she returned to the bed and curled into a ball to keep warm. It was going to be a long day tomorrow.

* * *

><p>"Merlin, there you are," said Arthur as he readied himself for the journey, in no mood for teasing.<p>

"My mother came with them," he responded.

"Is she well?"

"Oh yes, she is fine. She came to visit. It has been so long."

"Do you think I made the right decision, Merlin?"

"What do you mean?"

"Abandoning the kingdom in its hour of need, leaving two children with all that responsibility resting on their shoulders…"

"I know how you care for her, Arthur. In your heart, do you believe you are doing the right thing?" asked Merlin.

"Yes… I love her, Merlin…" trailed off the king, suddenly embarrassed "I mean… I grew up with her. I promised to keep her safe. What if he hurt her? You know how she is."

"Morgana will be fine, Arthur. She wouldn't let any man hurt her."

_Not now_, thought Arthur, sadly, _not after my father sold her and let her be hurt in ways no-one can fully recover from_. Yet, Morgana, his Morgana, had fought back and took control of her own fate, the scars on her flesh and on her heart a strength and not a weakness. Yes, she would be ok if he got to her as soon as possible.

"I mean, look at what she did to Lot," said Merlin, realising he was digging up old, still painful memories of that time Morgana had told them she was pregnant with her abuser's child.

"But Odin is different, Merlin. If he knows I am gone, he won't care about using Morgana, he'll ride out and attack the city."

"Come on, Arthur, you know the girls. If Odin attacks Camelot, they'll be able to handle him well enough. I mean, Morgana taught them," joked Merlin "Besides; how bad a job can they do at ruling compared to the court."

"_Mer_lin. I selected each member specifically and for a reason," responded Arthur.

"Exactly."

Arthur managed a smile at Merlin before he slung his bag over his shoulder and strapped his weapons to his belt, as prepared as he could be. He was going to rescue her and he would kill anyone who got in his way.

"I'm coming with you, Arthur."

"No you're not, Merlin. Edmund and I are going alone."

"And who's going to protect you if I stay here?"

"No offense, Merlin, but you aren't exactly a soldier."

"I've already packed."

"Look, fine, whatever. Just don't complain about your little bottom getting sore."

"Morgana's my friend too. I don't want to see her get hurt."

"Ok… Come on. We're already five minutes too late."


	31. Revelations

A/N - So, here's the next chapter. Thanks for the support :) Please review.

P.S - I was originally going to have the ArMor reunion in this chapter but I don't have anymore time to write tonight (I have to plan an essay on Shakespeare, ugh!) so I figured I should upload this anyway XD

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><p><strong>31) Revelations<strong>

An unknown maidservant brought her evening meal, apologising that Belle was unwell. Morgana ate slowly, silently going through the plan in her head again and again, ensuring that there were no flaws and absolutely no chance for anything to go wrong.  
>Standing in front of the mirror, she checked herself over. Odin had provided her no riding clothes, only dresses, so she had taken one of the more favoured ones and torn the lacy sleeves and hem to a more practical state. Her hair was scraped back tightly and twisted into a coil to stop it interfering. Draping the dark green cloak over her shoulders and tying a knot to secure it, she deduced she was ready. Glancing out of the window, she realised it was time.<br>"Excuse me, sir?" she called through the door.  
>"Yes?" came the gruff reply.<br>"There is an awful chill in here. I wondered if you would be so kind as to fetch me some warm milk."  
>"Yes, m'lady."<br>Morgana smiled as she thanked him and heard him leave. That morning, Odin had summoned her and she had once more acted the innocent damsel, apologising for all she was worth. The fool had been satisfied with that and restored her to having a privileged stay in his castle once more. Due to this, it seemed her guard was much easier to manipulate than before.  
>Waiting in the alcove behind the door, she heard him return and the key turned in the lock. He walked into the darkness of the chambers and looked amusingly confused when he failed to see her. She soon made her presence known as she stepped out and swung the metal candle holder at his head. He grunted before falling forward, a blood trail already starting.<br>"Sorry," she muttered, quietly.

After all, it wasn't his fault who he served. He'd been born into this job. Still, she had to be merciless. She hoped the blow had killed him so he wouldn't have to face Odin's wrath but there was no time to care. Kneeling, she took his sword and held it tightly, the cool hilt strangely comforting. It was time to show Odin her true colours and return to Camelot.

* * *

><p>The ride was silent as darkness fell like a blanket over them. Neither knew what to say and so they didn't make the effort to say anything. Their uneasy silence was broken by the raucous shouts and the ring of steel being pulled from sheaths. Instinct was to assume that they were Odin's men but with one glance, it was apparent that these men were nothing more than petty criminals hoping to steal gold and jewels from unsuspecting travellers.<p>

Arthur, a quiet anger driving him even more than usual, leapt from his startled war horse and slit the first man's throat with one deadly stroke. This pointless attack was costing him precious time in rescuing Morgana. These barbarians had never and would never understand love and loss and the pressures of following both duty and desire. Another man fell, leaving his sword bloody. The screams were dulled in his ears as he slashed and swiped, dodging swords easily as only years and years of hard training had taught him.

All too late he heard a man approach him from behind as he finished dealing with a particularly good swordsman. He prepared himself for the blow but it never came. Whirling around, he came close to almost striking Edmund, who was standing, out of breath with wild eyes.

"Thank you," said Arthur. He had been right to bring him along. This was only physical proof of what he knew in his heart.

"Come on," responded Edmund, brushing it off "The others scattered. I doubt they will bother us again."

"Yes, yes of course," agreed Arthur, absentmindedly "Wait… Where's Merlin?"

"Here," shouted the sorcerer, standing from behind a tree.

"Stop hiding, _Mer_lin. You wanted to come with us."

"I wasn't hiding, I was…"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

Edmund smiled a little at their banter. The familiarity of it was comforting and gave him a slight distraction from the importance of this rescue. There was more than just his mother's life at stake. If Arthur was captured or killed, the kingdom would fall into merciless hands and his sisters would be trapped in Camelot. They could not fail this task.

* * *

><p>A smile crossed Morgana's face as she arrived at the stables unhindered to find her travelling companion already there, waiting, a bag hanging from her shoulder.<br>"Belle," she exclaimed, hugging the younger girl, surprising her "Come. We must hurry."  
>As if on cue, the warning bells began to ring and the streets dissolved into chaos. Guards swarmed from the castle; shouting orders, running, flaming torches lighting up the night sky, dogs barking in excitement at the hunt.<br>Morgana reached the stalls and opened the first, saddling the mare at hurricane pace, stopping momentarily to stroke her soft nose to show she wasn't a threat. It was then that she saw a guard approaching, a bloodthirsty look on his face as he charged like a bull who had saw red.  
>"Belle, get back and stay back!"<br>The girl didn't need telling twice and hurried into the stables as the lady and the knight engaged in combat, swords ringing loudly. She felt herself being lifted into the air by rough hands and tried to scream before a hand was against her mouth, preventing her from doing so. Panic coursed through her as she tried to struggle out of his grip. The man carried her out of the back entrance of the stables with ease. She was dumped over a horse and suddenly riding to the castle.  
>Morgana wiped her brow and let out a deep breath from the exertion before turning to lift her companion onto the horse so they could leave with no further trouble.<br>"Belle!" she screamed her name when she saw no sign of her "Belle!"  
>There was no answer. No sign of what had happened to her or where she had gone.<p>

"Lay down your sword, lady, and come with me," said a knight, suddenly appearing in front of her.  
>"What the hell have you done to her?" demanded Morgana, pointing her sword threateningly at his chest. She would not hesitate to run him through.<br>"The child is on her way to the king," he continued, smugly "Yield yourself or she will die for her treasonous actions."  
>Morgana's resolve broke and she cursed him for all she was worth as she dropped her sword and kicked it away, walking slowly towards him. She could have struck him down and rode away, never to look back. She could have just left Belle. But something stopped her. The girl reminded her too much of her own daughters and she couldn't be responsible for her death, even if it was for a good cause. Belle had kept her sane in the weeks she had spent here. The knight grabbed her by the arm, not expecting much of a struggle due to what was at stake, and began to march her back to the castle.<p>

* * *

><p>Alana shot up in her bed, a piercing scream of terror elicited from her. Her screams continued, echoing in the silence. She gasped as she gripped the sheets with her nails until her knuckles turned white, trying to regulate her breathing.<p>

"Alana! Alana, what's wrong? What's happening?" shouted the familiar voice of her sister, pounding on the door.

Still shaking, Alana slipped from underneath the sheets and opened the door, quickly locking it again to prevent the entire castle seeing her in such a pathetic state.

"It… It was so real," she said, her voice quivering.

"It's just a dream, Alana, just a dream," responded Arya, pulling her close to her in a tight embrace which seemed to calm her considerably.

"No… It wasn't. It _wasn't_!" protested Alana.

"What did you dream of?" asked Arya, motioning her over to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Fire. So much fire… We were under siege, Arya. Odin's going to attack. He is, I know it!"

"You've been thinking about war so much these past few days. Your mind is just taunting you with nightmares."

"I saw people die, Arya… Heard their screams… There was nothing I could do to stop it!"

"Hush, Alana. Everything will be alright."

"No it won't. We need to prepare the castle for siege."

"Arthur will be back here in a few days with our mother. He shall decide how to deal with Odin when he returns. Don't worry."

Arya pulled back the blankets and slid in between them, tapping the space beside her. Her sister lay down with a grateful smile, and pulled the covers back up to keep them warm. Listening to Arya's rhythmic breathing, Alana managed to drift off back to sleep, comforted by her sister's presence. However, Arya couldn't fall asleep, staring up at the ceiling, remaining still and silent. What if it wasn't just a dream? Their mother had dreams which were more like visions of future events… What if Alana was the same and she just brushed it off…? She hated responsibility. Always had, always would.

* * *

><p>"Alright, Odin. I surrender. You win," said Morgana, venomously "Now let her go."<br>"Did you really think you could escape me so easily?" he mocked her "You insult me."

"It's me you want, Odin. So let her go," she punctuated each of her last words for effect.  
>"Now, now, my lady. No need to spit fire," he laughed.<br>"LET HER GO!"  
>Morgana glanced to Belle who was openly crying, her eyes as wide and terrified as a wounded doe's. She was standing in front of the king, flanked by two armed guards.<br>"You tried to escape me, Morgana, even after your stay in your dungeons. Whatever am I going to do with you now?" he asked, as if reprimanding a misbehaving child.  
>"You have me now, Odin, under lock and key once more," replied Morgana, biting down on her anger "There is no need for the child to witness this."<br>"Yes, but for how long shall you remain? I am not a man fooled twice. I believe that harsher methods are necessary to ensure your compliance…" he continued, almost thoughtfully, taking his time "And since I can't harm your pretty little head..."  
>"Do whatever the hell you want to me but let her go, Odin."<br>"Kill the girl!"  
>"NO!" Morgana screamed, lunging for him, only to be dragged back by several guards.<br>"Make her watch."  
>Morgana was forced to her knees as one of the men grabbed a screaming Belle and yanked her head back sharply, whipping out a dagger and holding it to her now exposed throat. Something sparked in her then; something ferocious and feral. At another of the girl's desperate screams, a raw power surged through her, leaving her tingling inside as it exploded from her. She screamed in shock at the sickening cracks that echoed as everyone surrounding her was sent hurtling through the air. Because of her. Magic. She had no time to consider what the hell had happened nor time to be shaken as she searched frantically for Belle.<p>

Spotting her lying on top of her would be murderer, somehow conscious but frozen with terror, she rushed to her, grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet, no time to be gentle. A hand shot out and grabbed her ankle in a vice grip but she stamped on the wrist mercilessly and continued half-walking half-running, clinging to her companion's hand to keep her focused from the turmoil that was her mind.  
>No-one tried to apprehend them as they headed back to the stables, terrified of who she was and what she could. News spread quickly, it seemed. They wouldn't be inactive for long though so Morgana quickened her step.<p>

At the stables, the saddled horse had clearly bolted so she let another out of its stall and mounted it bare back, no time to bother with saddles and reins. She reached down and pulled Belle up in front of her, reaching around to grab the stallion's mane.  
>"I need you to hold on Belle. Hold on tightly," Morgana ordered to which the girl complied instantly, clearly nervous about the ride.<p>

Morgana gave her no more time to adjust and dug her knees sharply into the horse's sides. She didn't build up slowly to a gallop as she normally would; she started off at breakneck pace, clearing the guards at the gates with ease. Freedom had never felt so good. Belle twisted her fingers into the mane, her knuckles white from the intensity of her grip. She slipped from side to side on the horse's smooth back, saved only from falling by Morgana's legs on either side of her and her own death grip. She had no time to comprehend anything else like her near death experience or Morgana's frightening unleash of magic.  
>Morgana, a capable rider, had no such escape. The thought rattled through her brain. She had magic. She was a sorceress. What the hell was she going to do?<p>

* * *

><p>"My ladies," said Sir Adam, standing and bowing his head.<p>

"Yes, sir. What is it you wish to bring before the court?" asked Alana.

"This past week, we have arrested many thieves. Our dungeons are crowded with them. We must act quickly to quell this."

"Let each spend a day in the stocks, sir, then release them with a warning."

"It is customary to cut off a hand for thievery, my lady…"

"That may be true, sir, but the last thing we need is people who hate us with a war coming," added Arya.

"But we must maintain our strength."

"Mercy is a strength as much as brute force."

"Go and carry out the sentence, sir," finished Alana.

Sir Adam bowed his head and left to go down to the dungeons, clearly unhappy about the choices. Both princesses were unsure if it was the right decision but somehow, neither wanted to be the one to give the order for someone's hand to be removed from their body.

"Next," called Alana, who had taken to leading the session, mostly because of her cool head.

"My lady," said a young villager, curtsying deeply.

"You may rise," responded Arya, quickly, uncomfortable.

"I am sorry to trouble you my lady but I have much to tell you," continued the woman, standing straight now.

"Not at all. Now, please, tell us what troubles you," said Alana, kindly.

"A group of men came to my village in the middle of the night, my lady. They bore Odin's banner," she began to explain, nervously "I woke up to burning. Only a handful of us escaped."

"Thank you for bringing this matter to us," finished Alana with a small smile at the teary-eyed woman before her "Sir Matthew, please ensure that this woman and her companions are comfortable. They may remain as long as necessary."

"Council dismissed," said Arya, loudly, in a tone that no-one would argue with.


	32. Reunited

A/N - I'm so sorry for the long wait _again_ :/ I had drama rehearsals the last few weeks and then loads of homework. I've just not had time. This chapter is a bit longer and contains a mix of everyone. I hope to get the next one up soon but I'm making no promises.

Please, please review :) Hope you enjoy 3

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><p><strong>32) Reunited<strong>

Coming to her senses and noting that the horse was exhausted, Morgana halted and dismounted carefully, lifting a sleeping Belle down and laying her on the grass instead. The girl moaned quietly but did not wake, thankfully.

"What am I going to do, Belle?" she asked, quietly, nibbling her thumb nail for something to do.

Of course, there was no answer. She half wished there was but what advice could a child give on such complicated matters? Something persistent inside her told her she was fretting over than nothing. Arthur would not abandon her for her magic like Uther would. But she wouldn't believe it; because what if he didn't? Her children needed her as much as she needed Arthur. And for the first time in years, she wished for her father or for her mother, to hold her and comfort her and advise her. She was tired of being the strong one; the one to make all the decisions. She was so tired.

As her eyelids began to get heavier, she lay down next to her companion, shuffling closer for the warmth of someone who wouldn't judge her or shun her. She was well aware that she shouldn't sleep, that it was too dangerous. Yet, she did. There was no rush to return to Camelot now. It would be so much easier to be Odin's prisoner again than to face Arthur's disappointment.

"Arya!" shouted Alana, racing down the corridor to her sister's chambers "ARYA!

* * *

><p>"Where's the fire?" responded Arya, pulling open her door.<p>

"It's Odin," answered Alana, breathless from the unanticipated run "His army. The scouts reported that what the villager said was true. Two days at most."

"Hold on, Alana. Calm down," interrupted Arya.

"No, no, you don't understand, sister. My dream. It's coming true. It's coming true! The kingdom will be under siege."

"It'll be alright. Arthur will know what to do when he comes back."

"But he's not here, Arya! We can't wait!"

"No, Alana, no. We are not planning a war. _I'm_ not planning a war. No, no way."

"Then the citadel will fall!"

"I can't do it, Alana… I know how to fight and that's it. I don't know anything about strategy or tactics or preparing for siege…"

"We have to do something. I sent the guards to bring the war generals to the throne room. We just need to pretend we know what to do and everything will be ok."

"Don't you understand, sister? Arthur took half the army. We're outnumbered, unprepared, unskilled…"

"Come on, Arya. You can do it."

"I'm not going to be responsible for hundreds of deaths. I can't do it!"

"Please, I need you. I can't do this alone."

"You're so much better at this than me, Alana."

"Arthur trusts us to protect Camelot. Now come on. We have to try."

Alana reached for her sister's hands and squeezed tightly before releasing them and leaving the chambers, unspoken dread weighing her down with every step. It was always Arya in charge; strong, confident Arya. Now her sister was panicking and she knew it was up to her. For Arthur. For everyone.

* * *

><p>Bleary eyed, Belle woke up to sunlight streaming down on her. She rolled over and saw Morgana sleeping, almost peacefully. Regretfully, she tapped her on the shoulder and then with slight pressure, shook her shoulder. Always a light sleeper, the sorceress woke, immediately alert.<p>

"It's morning, Morgana," said Belle with a smile.

"I should never have fallen asleep. Anything could have happened," Morgana chided herself.

"You saved my life, my lady. Why? You could have escaped."

"My quarrel is with Odin. He should never have involved you. I never should have. There's no way I would have let that brute kill you, Belle."

"Thank you, Morgana. I don't know how I can ever repay you for this…"

"There is no payment needed. Only that you are saved. You'll be happy in Camelot, much happier."

"All thanks to you."

Morgana brushed her off, embarrassed. She stood up and searched for the horse, irritated when she discovered it was nowhere in sight, having run off due to her not tethering it. Sighing, she gave in to the fact that they would have to walk back. Not that it bothered her much. It kept her head clear and her mind focused.

"We had best get going, Belle. It is not quite safe here."

The girl nodded and followed Morgana down the narrow dust path, staying quiet to allow her the time she needed. Magic was not outlawed in Odin's kingdom officially, although the gifted people were feared and often murdered where they slept. But Belle knew Morgana had no evil in her. She had risked herself and her kingdom to rescue her. No-one else would have done that.

* * *

><p>The trio galloped as fast as the horses could manage, silence adding to the thick tension in the air. Arthur's grip on the reins turned his knuckles white even though the rest of his hands were red from the cold. It didn't seem to register to him though. His mind wasn't really there. It was too busy taunting him with worst case scenarios, playing games with his affections.<p>

"Arthur, we have to stop," said Merlin, gently.

The king rode on, oblivious to the dulled voice. Morgana. He had to save her. Yet then he had to talk to her about other matters that he had no idea what to say about them. His feelings. Her feelings.

"Arthur!" shouted Edmund, in a slightly panicked voice.

As much as Edmund was worried about his mother and her fate, he was able to stay alert in case of attack, highly likely considering they were in the territory of a king who had started a war. There was something else. Love. A burning love. He smiled to himself. His mother deserved someone who would love her unconditionally.

"What is it?" asked Arthur, bluntly.

"We need to stop, Arthur," continued Merlin "We've been riding for hours."

"I don't care!" protested the king.

"Morgana won't appreciate it if you are risking yourself like this," reiterated the warlock "At least have some water."

Knowing the signs of stubbornness well enough from his mother and sisters, Edmund leaned over and grabbed Arthur's reins tightly, jerking them back to stop the horse. At such a fast pace, the momentum nearly toppled him from his own horse but he regained his balance before dismounting.

Once the horses had been taken care of, they sat down on the grass, all exhausted. They had ridden tirelessly through the night without realising it. Each of them was glad for the water and the bread that Merlin had had the sense to bring along in their haste.

A deafening cry rang out around them followed by the ring of steel as swords were pulled from scabbards and men jumped and ran with thumping footsteps towards the group. Even in a depressed and distanced state, Arthur was first to react, jumping to his feet and charging towards the bandits with Excalibur held high. Momentarily, Edmund stood shocked at Arthur's rash decision before it dawned on him: the last thing they needed was to be trapped with the tightly packed trees at their backs. Then, he joined the fight. Two against fifty, however, was not a favourable odd.

* * *

><p>"Wait! Stop! What was that?" asked Morgana, putting a firm hand on Belle's shoulder to prevent her moving any further.<p>

"What was what?" questioned Belle, her ears meeting silence as she strained to hear.

"Fighting. I definitely heard swords…"

Her argument was proven when the very distinct clash of steel or steel sounded again, louder than before, coming closer.

"I'm going to see what's going on," decided Morgana "You set…"

"No way! I'm coming with you," Belle was resolute.

"Come on, Belle, don't fight me on this, please," continued Morgana, hoping she wouldn't be faced with the same stubbornness her children showed "You almost died."

"But I'll be safe with you," argued Belle "And the reason I got caught was because I wasn't with you."

"Fine!" agreed Morgana with a sigh, her mouth twitching with the beginning of a smile. More and more like her daughters.

Shaking her head to rid herself of the daydream, she started towards the noise, Belle at her hip. It struck her only as they reached the trees that shielded a clearing, that she had no weapon. How the hell had she managed to forget the most important fact of all?

"ARTHUR!"

The shout made her blood run through her veins like ice. _No, no, no. It can't be. Why is he here? He's come to rescue me, obviously. God, he couldn't have picked a worst time. I can't lose him._ _Not now. Not after everything. And_ forgetting that she had no sword, she ran headlong through the trees to see a very bloody clearing strewn with the leather clad bodies of bandits. Her son was defending himself from three bandits, all coming at him at once. Yet, he looked like he was coping. She searched for the red cloaks of Camelot and found none. Trust Arthur to come out alone. And then her eyes fell on Merlin, lying unconscious by a log, a piece of his red shirt stained even darker. _Oh god… _

"Morgana!" screamed Belle from behind her.

Turning her head, Morgana herself screamed as she saw Arthur fall to his knees as a bandit slammed the flat of his sword against the back of his knees. Another bandit was prepared to plunge his sword into his gut when his eyes met hers, shock filling them as he saw her.

"MORGANA?" he shouted, forgetting that his life was about to end "Morgana! Get out of here! NOW!"

She heard him but she didn't listen. Like she ever would. With no weapon to help him, she did the only thing she could think of, damning the consequences. His life was in danger. Now was no time to worry about her secret. Summoning her magic with all of her willpower and strength, she found it came bubbling to the surface easy enough and this time she was more in control as it was released. A small tornado started beside a group of men and gradually it grew larger and larger as it spun faster, the dirt and grass spinning with it. She turned her back on the carnage when she felt the force of the wind, pushing Belle down to safety. What she had expected she wasn't sure but it sure as hell wasn't this.

* * *

><p>The war counsel was convened as soon as possible and it wasn't long before the arguing began. She had tried to bring it under control; really tried, but the crowd of middle-aged men and trained knights were not about to listen to a child at such an important time. <em>Come on, think, Alana<em>. She blocked out the shouting and wracked her brains. Beside her, she felt Arya moving and almost cried when she saw her make a hasty retreat from the counsel chambers. But she held herself together because Arthur had left her in charge and there was no-one else to take her place for now.

"GENTLEMAN!" she shouted above the din, standing abruptly.

It was enough to make them cease their bickering for a moment and they all looked at her expectantly; most of them mocking her and only listening to taunt. She had one chance at this. Only one.

"Come on, then, little girl," jeered someone.

"The other one's already run off. And I heard she was the brave one," continued the mocking.

Many people would be deterred by this, but for the daughter of Morgana, it only gave her a white hot anger that fuelled her on. No-one talked badly of her sister. She took a deep breath.

"Your king has left me to rule his kingdom in his stead. To defy me is to defy his orders," she stated, an unusually cold edge to her voice "I am sure you are all aware of the penalty for disobedience, especially during a time of war."

It was almost amusing how the thinly veiled threat affected these grown men. But this was war and there was no time to prove their scornful remarks right. Now was not the time to act like a child.

"What do you suggest we do, milady?" asked Sir Aaron, rising from his seat.

"We prepare the castle for siege, sir. I wish for you to be in charge," she replied "Ensure that all women and children are given sanctuary as well as any men unable to fight. With half of our army gone, I want you to let it be known that all men and boys of age are required to protect our city."

"These boys are _villagers_, princes; butchers and bakers and blacksmiths, they do not know how to wield a sword let alone defend us against an army," protested one of the lords.

"Then we had best hope they are quick learners for there is no other choice," she continued "Let it also be known that those who have skill in medicine and healing should come forth to the infirmary. There will be many casualties and wounded men to be taken care of. No-one will be idle."

"What of the children?" questioned Sir Aaron.

"Those brave enough will fetch and carry supplies; water and food and clothing. Nothing dangerous. Those too young will stay inside the walls and pray for our salvation."

"But the army? We are too few," came the pessimism.

"Camelot's walls were built to withstand attack. I am confident that the army will be able to hold them off until Arthur returns at least."

"This is madness."

"And what would you suggest? Surrender?" snapped Alana, before reigning in her temper. God, she was trying so hard and nobody appreciated it. _Calm down, deep breath_.

The lord shut his mouth then, having nothing to counteract Alana's strategy. That left her slightly happy but not much. She'd never asked to be left in charge of a kingdom.

"Counsel adjourned," she finished "Prepare the castle and the army."

"When will they come, my lady?"

"We shall need to be prepared by nightfall tomorrow, my lord. Someone ensure that me and Princess Arya are informed when they reach your line of sight."

Finally it was over. She all but ran from the room, rushing to find her sister. She had no idea why Odin desired another kingdom. Ruling was such hard, laborious, frustrating work. Now she had the equally difficult task of persuading Arya to just stay out of the thick of the fight. She rubbed her temples, anticipating a headache.

* * *

><p>Standing shakily, Morgana observed the damage she had caused. Everyone around her was unconscious, at least the ones closest. The remainder of the bandits left untouched by her magic had resulted to cowardice and ran. She let out a small cry and rushed to Arthur, frantically checking for a pulse at the same time as a dazed Edmund stumbled to Merlin's side.<p>

"Arthur, Arthur, please wake up," she pleaded, pushing a strand of hair from his face.

As she spoke to him, she checked him for other injuries, relieved when none became immediately apparent. There was a bump on the back of his head from the impact but she was hoping it was nothing terribly serious.

"Mother," said her son from behind her.

"Oh, Edmund," she responded, leaving Arthur to embrace him tightly "What the hell were you doing out here? You could've gotten yourself killed!"

"We came to rescue you," he continued "It seems that it was you who saved us instead."

"I have magic, Edmund. I didn't know it… but I do… I killed men back in Odin's castle. It was so sudden…" stammered Morgana, her usual confidence replaced with uncertainty.

"I know, mother. Your dreams too."

"You don't care?"

"Of course not. There is nothing wrong with magic. You saved our lives today. And you're my mother."

Morgana nodded as Edmund hugged her again, more tightly. It was such an unusual experience for her. When she had been trapped by Lot, he'd been taught to never display any such acts of affection. She relished in his warmth, grateful that someone understood.

"Stay with Arthur. I must tend to Merlin," she said, snapping out of it quickly.

"Of course," he nodded in understanding.

With that, she turned and ran to her friend who Edmund had lain down next to her. She winced when she lifted his shirt to see a relatively deep incision, the stark redness terrifying against his pale skin. Thankfully, the bleeding seemed to have stopped, crusting around the wound instead. Water, she needed water.

"Edmund, water, do you have any water?" she asked, trying to keep a clear head. She was good at healing. Gaius had taught her as a child on Uther's instructions to 'keep those rebellious notions out of her head with some hard work'. The truth was, she'd enjoyed it far more than he'd expected and became quite skilled at it.

"By the horses," he said, pointing.

Now that she'd discovered magic, she found it easy to control. That was strange but she was grateful for it now as she waved her hand and the water skin rose into the air and steadily came towards her, ending in her clenched fist. She allowed herself to smile because no matter how many problems magic could potentially cause for her, it was a wonderful, beautiful gift. There was nothing that would make her give it up now.

* * *

><p>"Edmund," groaned Arthur, opening his eyes.<p>

"Arthur, are you alright?" asked the prince, focusing all of his attention on him.

"Yes… Morgana. Your mother. I-I saw her. She was here," continued Arthur, sitting up too quickly and bringing a hand to his head at the pain.

"Whoa! You were unconscious for quite a while," responded Edmund.

"Morgana…"

"My mother's here. She's safe. She saved us."

"What... But she was in Odin's castle…?"

"There was no time to ask how she got out. I'm sure she will enjoy telling you."

"Yes, I'll never hear the end of it," smiled Arthur as he sat up again, his eyes falling on Morgana and a child crouched beside Merlin "Who's that? What happened? Merlin?"

"He's wounded. They are tending to him. Don't worry, Arthur. Everything will be fine."

"Yes, it's not like the kingdom is at war or anything…"

Feeling like the world was steady enough, he pushed himself up and walked over to Morgana, worrying over what to say. He had hoped to be the one to rescue her, to show his affection in the only way he truly knew. In his mind, actions spoke louder and more clearly than words.

And then, he was standing behind her and there was no more time to think or plan his speech.

"Morgana," he said, tentatively, as he watched her fondly as she clean Merlin's wound. He worried for his friend but he looked in no immediate danger, thanks to her.

* * *

><p>AN - I know you all probably hate me for that cliffhanger but if you review, the chapter will come quicker XD (I'm shameless I know).

Rachel xxx


	33. Infiltration

A/N - I hope I didn't make you all wait too long :) I'm going on holiday to Paris on Wednesday so depending on the number of reviews for this chapter, I will possibly have another chapter up before then. I hope you all like this chapter ;) It provides a reason for Arya running and also something pretty major near the end.

Please leave a review. The more I get, the more I'll want to upload XD 3 3 3

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><p><strong>33) Infiltration<strong>

The eldest princess ran light-footed across the hallway, heading to the balcony. As she ran, she realised that she hadn't exactly thought this through, tearing out of the council meeting without explanation. But the moment her eye had caught a half-hidden shadowy figure listening in, she had immediately felt the urge to investigate. And the icing on the cake was a suitable excuse to escape the questions and arrogance of Camelot's nobility.

She reached the door and pulled the handle, her suspicion increasing when she discovered it firmly locked. The balcony was a restricted area, meant more for decoration than anything else. Usually it was guarded but the army was already stretched by preparing for war. This area was deemed least important. Arya reached down to her belt and pulled off the ring of keys with a smile. Being a sort of queen regent had given her advantages despite everything she hated about it. Finally finding the correct key, she turned it in the lock and proceeded up the winding stairs, ensuring that her dagger and her shortsword were within easy reach should she need them.

When she saw the man dressed in black leather, hunched over and peering through the bars, she set her face in a hard line before deliberately making her footsteps louder to announce her presence.

"M-my lady," the man stumbled over his words, straightening himself "I believed you to be at the meeting."

"And I you, Lord…" replied Arya, pointedly.

"Steven, my lady. Forgive me, I was…" he coughed, seeming flustered although hiding it well "… Delayed with official business… I did not wish to interrupt yet I did not wish to miss important information."

"How did you get up here, my lord? It is out of bounds for anyone other than the King or in our case, me and my sister."

"It was left open… I was recently given charge of my land. I'm unfamiliar with rules. I humbly apologise."

"Very well. The meeting is over. Return to your duties, Lord… Steven," Arya gave him a smile and ushered him on his way.

The man turned on his heel and walked towards the staircase. Probably with a smirk on his face, thought Arya, the cocky bastard. She quietly unsheathed her dagger and approached him from behind, taking a deep breath. This manoeuvre could not fail.

"Excuse me," she said.

"Yes, my lady?" he responded, not turning around.

"Do you take me for a fool, my lord?"

"Of course not, Princess Arya."

"So you take me for a blind fool."

"W…What?"

The lady pressed the point of her knife against his neck which caused him to stiffen. The blade itself, freshly polished, glinted dangerously in the light.

"Now, sir, perhaps you can tell me the real reason you are here," she said, lightly "Go and stand against the wall and face me. I like to be able to tell when my prisoners are lying.

* * *

><p>"Oh, Arthur, thank god!" exclaimed Morgana, rushing to him and throwing her arms around him.<p>

"You aren't angry?" he questioned, returning the embrace just as fiercely.

"Why on earth would I be angry?" she asked, releasing him with great reluctance.

"For not getting you out of there sooner," he replied.

"Arthur, you weren't to know that I was even there. You mustn't blame yourself for that."

"But I do. I was supposed to be there for you."

"You were coming to save me. You are here for me."

"Anything could have happened to you, Morgana. A hostage."

"I was not treated badly, Arthur," she spoke gently, choosing to miss out the important details of her dungeon stay or her seduction of the slimy Lord Dustan.

"You're lying," Arthur accused with a sad look in his eyes.

"No, I'm not, Arthur, I assure you," she said, firmly.

"How did you get out, anyway? I thought Odin would have had you tightly under lock and key. It seems all very careless," continued the king, wisely changing the subject of her treatment. Although for her, it was not greatly appreciated. Now she was forced to tell him of her true nature. She would not lie to him.

"Arthur…" she began, taking a deep breath and holding his hands tightly in front of her to draw some comfort "Promise me you won't hate me."

"I could never hate you, Morgana. You mean far too much to me… Why would you ever think that?" responded Arthur, confused.

"No, Arthur, you don't understand…"

"Did you kill someone? I understand why you did it. We've all killed someone before. You killed Lot…"

"It's not that, Arthur. Death follows me like a shadow anyway…"

"Then what? Please, just tell me. I promise I won't hate you. Nothing will ever make me hate you."

"I have magic," she burst out, fearing that if she tried to build up to it slowly then she would lose all of her nerve completely.

"What?" asked Arthur, as if he didn't hear right.

"I have magic, Arthur. That's how I got out."

"Magic…? Bu-but how?"

"I suspect that my mother passed her gifts on to me. I've always had prophetic dreams. I guess that my true abilities only developed because I was truly desperate…"

"What happened?"

"Odin… he was about to kill Belle. I couldn't do anything. And… and I guess it just sort of exploded out of me." She told him, certainly not expecting him to ask about this. She'd thought he would close himself off from her or shout at her. Neither of these looked to be happening any time soon. He just looked dazed and uncertain.

"Belle? The girl?"

"Yes. She was my friend back in Odin's castle, the only thing that kept me sane and stopped me getting my head removed from my body."

Silence followed her sentence. Morgana waited with baited breath, wondering what he was going to say or even when he would react. She did not want to disturb him or break his thoughts but a nervous energy was building up inside her and she didn't know how long she could last left unknowing.

* * *

><p>"My lady… What are you doing?" asked the man, doing as he was bid, prompted by the dagger at his neck which was not pressed to his throat.<p>

"You can drop the act now. I know you are not a lord of Camelot," replied Arya "I may be young but I've not spent my life blinkered."

"It's not an act," he protested.

"Don't waste my time. You would not enjoy the consequences," she responded, irritated "Now, what is your name? And don't even think of lying."

"David."

"Good, now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"What do you want?"

"The truth. So I believe the question is what you hoped to achieve by coming here?"

"Now why would I tell you, princess?"

"It's surprising how quickly you can change, don't you think? I know you aren't a commoner, far too well-spoken. So you are nobility. Yet not important enough to risk your life."

"Odin picked me from many volunteers. I'd say that makes me fairly important."

"You are the blind fool. Your precious king selected you because you are disposable. Do you think he will rush to your aid now?"

"I do not need aid. I will gladly give my life to his service."

"Your loyalty is so very touching, David. But I doubt it will last long with a death sentence hanging over your head."

He stayed stubbornly quiet, probably some desperate show to prove he wasn't a coward. The princess rolled her eyes in exasperation. He would talk eventually. She just didn't have much time to waste.

"One slip and this dagger will end your life – nice and slow," she threatened, her ruthless streak shocking even her.

"Yes, yes, princess. But we both know you won't bloody those pretty white hands," he mocked her.

In a fury and knowing she could not afford to let him walk all over her, she quickly removed the dagger from his throat and brought it down across his arm, tearing the leather sleeve and biting the soft skin beneath. As she returned her now bloody dagger to his throat, the semi-deep wound on his arm began to leak red blood fairly fast. It was not nearly enough to kill him but it did its job and seemed to scare him.

"Try me now."

"If you kill me you'll never know why I was sent here," he gibbered causing a grin with a hint of malice to appear on her face.

"Ah. But Odin will never know the information you were sent to retrieve. That is why you were sent here?"

"Yes. There is more of us. In the forest. They'll get the information even if you kill me. I can help you…"

"You are pathetic. I expected a little more resistance. Why on earth would I take help from a man who changes his loyalty every five minutes?"

"I…"

"And though I don't doubt that your men will get their hands on information, it will be too late for Odin to use it to his advantage."

David, if that was truly his name, was struck dumb. He hadn't expected to be outwitted by a girl.

"Move. I will have the guards escort you to the dungeons to hold you until your execution at dawn tomorrow."

"But… but you said if I helped you…?"

"I said no such thing. This is a war. Did you expect me to let you run free with the plans you heard? No. You took the risk of volunteering and now you will pay with your life. The law is the law and you have not exactly given me a good reason to negotiate."

"I can give you information," he tried, frantically.

"You have none. I have the information I need. Men waiting in the forest. I must thank you for giving that up so easily," responded Arya "Now on your feet."

"Why don't you just kill me here and now, princess?" he spat.

"Because, contrary to what I just told you, I will not needlessly bloody my hands."

* * *

><p>"I'm glad you're ok, Morgana," said Arthur with a smile.<p>

"Wait? You aren't angry?" asked Morgana with momentous surprise.

"Why would I be angry? The way I see it, magic saved your life, and the child's. You were born with it. Why should I view you any differently because of it?"

"But your father…?"

"When he sold you to that monster, I never truly forgave him. He was wrong on so many things, maybe magic was one of them."

"You're willing to put all those years of condemning my kind because of me?" she asked, half relieved and half confused "I'm sorry… I just…"

"I love you, Morgana," he said with every ounce of conviction that he could muster "I may not trust magic, but I do trust you."

"Thank you, Arthur. You have no idea how much it means to hear you say it," she said with a bright smile.

"A war is coming again," he said, wearily "We should not stay any longer."

Morgana nodded and looked over to Merlin. Belle was dabbing his forehead with a wet cloth. He would wake up soon and should be fine in a few hours. Thank god.

"Arthur," she said, causing him to turn around "I love you, too."

His smile warmed her heart more than anything else. He moved towards her and put his hands, calloused but with a soft touch, on either side of her face, bringing her forward to meet his lips. The kiss was sensual and it was so much more than their drunken kiss in the cellar. It held acceptance, for who they were as individuals and for them as a pair. She kissed him back with passion she'd never had before. With Lot she had let her mind drift, now her heart was exploding and she never wanted the moment to end.

The desperate need to breathe pulled them apart. Both their lips were slightly swollen from the hungry way that had developed. Both of them smiled, perfectly content in that moment.

"Later…" Arthur promised with a whisper and a mischievous grin.

"Arthur Pendragon, what are you insinuating?" asked Morgana in mock horror.

"We have an audience, my lady," said the king with a small laugh.

She spun around to see Belle and Merlin both staring, Edmund pointedly rifling through bags so as not to see his mother and the king practically eating each other.

"Merlin, are you alright?" asked Arthur.

"I'll live, sire," replied Merlin with a sneaky wink to which the king blushed.

Belle walked over to the couple with two flagons of water, handing one to each of them.

"I told you everything would be fine, my lady," she whispered in her ear.

* * *

><p>Alana reached her chamber doors, grateful for the calming silence. Before she could open them, her sister stepped out and smiled at her.<p>

"Where did you go, Arya? I needed you," she said, tiredly.

"We had an infiltrator, sister. I went to check it out. He is in the dungeons now. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. There was no time," responded Arya with an apologetic smile.

"Ask one of the lords what our plans are. I'm afraid I need to lie down for a while. This queen business does not suit me."

"Nor I. Arthur can keep his title and Edmund his. I'll wake you for dinner, Alana. There is much to discuss."

"Yes," nodded the younger of the two, already half asleep. The council meeting on top of her nightmare riddled sleep the previous night left her drained.

"Sleep well."

"Thank you, Arya. I'll try."


	34. Justice

A/N - Surprisingly, I had some free time today, since I have sorted mostly everything for my holiday. So, here is the next chapter :) Hope you enjoy and please leave a review 3

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><p><strong>34) Justice <strong>

Morgana rested her head against Arthur's chest, weariness finally catching up on her. The motion of the horse beneath her lulled her into a sense of serenity and intensified her desire to sleep. Feeling safe in her love's arms, she allowed her eyes to close and her mind to rest, certain that he would wake her the moment anything happened.

Keeping one eye on the increasingly narrow path ahead, Arthur looked down at the sleeping woman. Her dark hair was tangled and yet still spilled like ink over his white shirt, the scent of apples drifting from it, like always. He had no idea how she managed to stay exactly the same through the weeks of captivity. Perhaps she hadn't completely lied about the way Odin had treated her. Though she definitely hadn't told the whole truth. He wouldn't insist that she tell him though; he'd got her back safe and sound and in a different way than before. He'd go through hell before he lost her.

"Arthur," said Merlin, softly, not wanting to break his dreamlike state.

"Merlin, how are you feeling?" responded Arthur, turning his head.

"Better," he responded "Morgana's healing skills could rival even Gaius's."

"Yes, she was always interested in both fighting and healing. When I asked her about it, she told me that it was important to be able to defend yourself in an attack but equally important to be able to defend your health or it wouldn't matter if you could wield a sword. I guess her father told her that. It seemed like something Gorlois would say," said Arthur with a fond smile "That was when she was twelve. She never stopped pursuing knowledge. My father banned her from sparring and although she didn't listen, of course, she never trained as frequently. Her nose was always in a book; healing and history and once or twice fairytales although she'd kill the man who confronted her about it… Then he sent her away…"

"It wasn't your fault, Arthur."

"That's what she said too, Merlin. But it was. I could have tried to stop it, tried to save her from her fate. But I didn't. I let her world be torn apart – again. There was no way I could have prevented her father's death but I could have at least tried to prevent her marriage."

"The past is written in stone. None of us can alter it," continued Merlin "And even if she could, do you think she would? Our history changes us, Arthur, for better and for worse. It gave her strength and courage and despite her marriage, it gave her love."

"You are actually rather wise, Merlin," joked Arthur after a few seconds, the words uplifting him slightly.

"I am always wise, sire, you are usually just too busy being a prat to notice."

"_Ha_ha, Merlin. Some things never last."

Slipping back into silence, Merlin forgot whatever it was he had been about to say, drawn into memories of Morgana back in Camelot, before the hard times had struck them all. He remembered when they'd found her in the forest and what she'd told them. A crushing guilt filled him. He could have done something, should have done something. But he didn't: simply taking her word that she could deal with the violence and abuse on her own. Arthur had agreed with her but only because he didn't want to endanger the child she was carrying. He'd known his father wouldn't tolerate Morgana returning with a war let alone a babe. But like Arthur he felt like he could have done something to help her instead of letting her endure it all on her own.

* * *

><p>The day dawned bright and clear, contrasting the mood of events set to take place. Arya rose early, thoughts buzzing in her head and banishing sleep from her. She splashed cool water over her face to rid her mind of the haze before pulling a simple blue dress over her head. A servant would come by soon with breakfast and to prepare her for the day, but she was very much like her mother in the regard that she preferred dressing herself. She tugged the brush through her hair and for once left her dark hair to tumble in long waves down her back. Today was the one occasion when she had to look respectable and the perfect figure of authority. No-one was sure to mock her after this, she was sure, but as she stared in the mirror, she wondered if it was right that she had the power to end a man's life with a single word.<p>

A quiet, almost inaudible knock on the door saved her from working herself into a state about the morality of the impending execution.

"Alana," she said, instantly feeling lighter "How are you feeling?"

"Ready," was the simple reply of the younger princess.

"What brings you here at this early hour, sister? Could you not sleep?"

"I slept well," responded Alana, the dark shadows hastily covered with make-up betraying her "It is you I was worried for."

"Why would you be worried for me? I am as well as can be as expected."

"The castle is abuzz with what you plan to do. Execution. Arya, I know you don't want to do this…"

"But do this I must, Alana," interjected Arya "The man has committed treason against the crown and must pay with his life. If we show mercy, the kingdom will think us weak. Weakness is something we cannot afford at a time like this."

"The guilt will plague your dreams and your waking hours. There is no coming back from death."

"It is a time of war, sister. One of us has to do it and the man is my responsibility. Everything will be fine."

"You tell yourself that, Arya, but once the axe falls, you will never forgive yourself, no matter how deserved his death was."

"I'm able to do it, Alana; I'm positive that this is the right course of action. You need not watch. No-one would blame you. Blood on your hands taints you forever."

"If you are going to do it, Arya, then you will not do it alone. I'm your sister and I'll stand by your decision. As long as you are sure."

"Thank you," said Arya, simply.

* * *

><p>Belle was more comfortable with riding now even though it was only her second time on a horse. Perhaps it was to do with the fact that it was not Morgana's crazy haste. Perhaps it was the fact that Edmund's grip on her was firm and steady, comforting. One thing she knew for sure, was that she had no desire to get off this time.<p>

"Are you alright, Belle?" asked Edmund, once more, the perfect image of chivalry.

"Yes, thank you, my lord," replied Belle with a sudden shyness.

"Call me Edmund, please. Titles make me uncomfortable," he continued.

"As you wish," she said.

"Life cannot have been easy for you in Odin's court, Belle. I hope that Camelot will afford better opportunities for you."

The young girl felt a blush rise in her cheeks that a prince was taking such an interest in her, even if he was just being polite. It wasn't until a few moments later that she realised she hadn't actually replied to him.

"I… Thank you for your concern, Edmund. From what I have heard, I am very fortunate to be able to visit. I've been told it's very beautiful."

"That it is. But for how long is questionable."

"The war?"

"We have no delusions that it will be easy, Belle. But Arthur has confidence that we have enough strength and a solid defence to defeat Odin's army."

"I am glad to hear that."

"When things return to normal, I will see if one of my sisters is in need of a lady-in-waiting."

"L-lady-in-waiting? But… I am only a maid."

"Hopefully not for long. You underestimate your importance. You've aided my mother during her time captive and during her escape. Most definitely Arya and Alana will insist that you take the position, just as I am doing now."

"I-I don't know what to say, my lord," stuttered Belle, shocked.

"Nothing needs to be said, Belle. Except yes," he replied, fondly.

"Yes. Yes, of course. Of course. Thank you."

"I hope you can find happiness someday. You've been through much."

"I don't mean to pry, Prince Edmund, but I have heard stories of how your father was not the… uh… kindness man…"

"No, he wasn't, that's true. But I always had my mother to protect me and my sisters to talk to. You had nobody, Belle, and that makes it all the worse."

Belle was spared having to answer, thankfully, as Edmund wheeled the horse over to Arthur and Merlin, telling him that they were almost with the main portion of the army that he'd sent to form a detour.

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><p>It seemed like all of Camelot had come to witness the princess, who in their opinions was far too inferior to rule a kingdom no matter how short a period of time for, deliver the word for the traitor's execution. There were crowds of hundreds, more worried about this than the war. Market stalls were taking advantage, selling all manners of things.<p>

Arya and Alana stood on the balcony; the latter especially disgusted by the people who celebrated death when there would be plenty to come as soon as tonight. They would weep then but not for this man, simply because they did not know him. It sickened her further that there were infants and children as young as ten cheering them on.

"Are you ready?" whispered Arya to her.

"Yes," she responded, swallowing the bile rising in her throat and instead smoothing down her pearl white gown. Ironic that she wore a pure colour when it would have been more fitting to wear red or black.

"You can leave you know, Alana. I can do this alone if you can't."

"No. As you said, this has to be done."

Taking a deep breath, Arya nodded before placing her palms on the cool wood in front of her, waiting for the prisoner's arrival. It wouldn't be long, she knew. Half of her wished the time would never come and the other half wished that he'd be brought through immediately. A selfish thought but a reasonable one all the same. She never kidded herself that she was white as soon and had no qualms that she would kill if necessary, but she hadn't envisioned conducting an execution at the age of fifteen. Raucous cheering announced that it was time.

"People of Camelot," she began, her voice ringing out in the now silent courtyard, thankfully not wavering as much as her thoughts "We are here today for the execution of this man, an enemy of the kingdom."

There was a chorus of cheering and catcalls.

"King Arthur has given me responsibility of his kingdom and taking into account these harsh times, this traitor's immediate execution is the only course of action possible. His crime is that of reporting important information to King Odin and thus betraying us."

More shouts, calling for his death. At least no-one was blaming her or adding to her guilt.

"I, Princess Arya of Esscetir, regent of Arthur Pendragon, hereby sentence you, David, to death on grounds of high treason."

Finally, the most difficult part was over. She signalled to the executioner and watched as the prisoner was forced to his knees in front of the stone block, hands chained behind his back. He said not a word, neither to beg for his life or to condemn her. As the axe was raised, she wanted nothing more than to look away but something compelled her to watch and keep her eyes fixed on him as the axe swung and his head fell with a thump to the ground, eyes still open. It was only as she caught sight of the blood that she was pulled from her trance and she looked instead to her sister.

"Did you see it?" she asked, concerned, overwhelmed by the protective instinct for her younger sibling.

"Yes," responded Alana, somewhat numbly.

"You shouldn't have watched, sister."

"We condemned a man to death, Arya, for the right reasons, yes. But I could not look away when I was partly responsible."

"It's over now."

Alana nodded, breathing deeply to collect her thoughts. It was not the first execution she'd witnessed. When she was seven years old, her father had forced her to watch the burning of a witch. She'd cried herself to sleep for days after it, the foul stench still in her nose and the horrific screams still ringing in her ears. Her mother had comforted her as best she could and had a massive fight with Lot over it. But she never got rid of the image. Since then, she'd been required to attend all manners of executions for even the pettiest of things; beheadings, hangings, burnings, her siblings by her side. None of them were strangers to death and she felt disgusted with herself that she was able to deal with it so passively.

"Let this man's death serve as a lesson to all of you," said Alana, when she realised her sister would not speak up "Any acts of treason will be answered with the axe."

She was more than surprised with the respect received after killing someone as several people bowed their heads, a few even bending lower.

"Tonight Odin's men shall attack but we will be ready. Everyone must contribute if we hope to drive them off. Your king will return soon…" continued Alana, confidence slowly building.

"But know this. We shall never surrender!" finished Arya.

This time the cheers were for them and not for death.

* * *

><p>"Morgana," he whispered to her.<p>

Being the light sleeper that she was, she opened her eyes first time and smiled up at him, before sitting up straighter, ignoring the annoying ache in her lower back.

"I've got to discuss war strategies with the rest of the army," said Arthur with an apologetic smile, pointing to the mass of red-cloaked knights.

"I'm coming too, Arthur," responded Morgana with a roll of her eyes.

"Is there any chance that if I ask you to, you'll back down?"

"Not a chance… Although, I wouldn't mind you trying."

The king dismounted and offered her a hand, which she took, and then pulled her close and sealed their lips with a kiss. They ignored the stunned stares from the army, Morgana smiling up at her champion.

"Come on, Arthur, we have to get my daughters back," said Morgana with a small smile as she clasped his hand in her own, trying not to let worry consume her.

"Of course," he agreed, allowing himself to be led to the erected tent, seriousness taking over his previous playful mood.

As king, he sat in the marginally largest seat, Morgana to his right. He ignored the men around them silently demanding an explanation and instead launched straight into how they were going to act. His initial plan was to come at Odin's army on three sides, the remainder of Camelot's army holding them out of the citadel.

"Your highness," said a squire, bursting in, clutching a scroll in his fist "I apologise for the intrusion but…"

"Do you bring news from the city, Adam?" Arthur cut in.

"Yes, sire. My Lord Bernard sent me with this," he handed the scroll over.

Silence befell the tent as the king read the parchment. Biting her thumbnail with nervous energy, Morgana's mind ran wild with possibilities of something happening to either of her daughters. She definitely did not agree with Arthur leaving them in charge but she had not fought him on it much. What's done is done after all, and no amount of wishing was going to change that.

"It seems Odin has had the audacity to infiltrate us," said Arthur with a shake of his head "As Lord Bernard puts it, Princess Arya and Princess Alana stepped up to do what was necessary and caught and…"

"…executed someone," finished Morgana with a sigh.

"I'm so sorry, Morgana," said Arthur, touching her hand in some form of comfort.

The truth was she did not need comfort. Her daughters losing their innocence was something she had always been prepared for. She'd expected it to come sooner, what with them living under Lot's roof. A strange form of pride washed over her; not for them ordering an execution but the fact that they were strong enough to do what they had deemed necessary. And a traitor during a war was indeed worthy of death.

"No, it's ok, Arthur," she said "You left them in charge of a kingdom. I have no doubt that there was no other options available. Execution was the most logical course of action and I have no doubt that you or I would have done the same."

"But they are your children. I thought you would wish to protect them from this…" continued Arthur in slight confusion.

"My children have gone through too much to be shielded from the evils of life. Lot saw to that. I merely showed them the difference between vengeance and justice and the like," finished Morgana "They did the right thing, Arthur. I do not blame anyone for what happened."

The king merely nodded and gave her a sympathetic smile before he was forced to regretfully return to the matter at hand - staging an attack.


	35. A Lover's Touch

A/N - Here we are. I hope I didn't leave you hanging too long. But I hope this chapter makes up for it ;) It is one of the more important ones in regards to the ArMor relationship. Hope you enjoy and please review. They mean a lot to me!

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><p><strong>35) A Lover's Touch<strong>

The torches of Odin's army were like fireflies in the darkness of the night, lined up in perfect lines along the hillside, coming closer. It would be less than an hour until they were upon the gates and the fighting would begin. Arya and Alana stood on the balcony, overlooking the comings and goings of the knights, rushing with crossbows and swords and maces to prepare to die.

"Come on, sister," said Alana "It's time."

"I must go and change, Alana. Will you remain in your dress?" asked Arya.

"You cannot mean to fight. You can't."

"Do not fret. I mean only to wear my armour as a safety precaution, nothing more. I will patrol the streets, make sure the people are as safe as possible."

"I will stay in the throne room. To negotiate with Odin if it comes to it. For that I must remain formal."

"Do not do anything hasty, though. Promise me."

"You will be the first to know, Arya, I promise. Just stay safe."

"You too."

The two sisters embraced before the eldest departed to her chambers, leaving Alana alone, watching the opposing army. She was not ready for this. War was too much. She'd already ordered an execution. Ordering the men to fight was too close to that for her; too close to ordering their executions. Because what hope was there really? She knew what her mother would say to that. She would say something like '_you cannot hope to win the battle when you already believe it to be lost'_ but Alana did not feel optimistic. The cold hard truth was death and not even Morgana could make it seem any brighter.

* * *

><p>By the time the war counsel ended, the sky was as black as ever save for the full moon which shed an eerie glow over the encampment. Arthur led Morgana out of the tent by the hand, intent on finding Merlin to prepare them something to eat. He knew that she would be hungry after her extremely eventful day.<p>

As they walked across the camp, past many of the men sitting around fires, eating basic meals, Morgana stopped, her eyes falling on her son. She made her way over to him, a smile crossing her face when she found him sleeping softly, an arm tucked protectively under Belle's head. A small laugh escaped her. It was cute, she had to admit.

"It seems young Edmund has a sweetheart," chuckled Arthur, putting a hand on her waist as he reached her.

"Don't tease him, Arthur," she reprimanded with a laugh.

"Me? Tease him? Never," he responded, mischief lacing his tone.

"Just remember, Arthur Pendragon, I grew up with you. There are plenty of secrets I could share about you, too," threatened Morgana, playfully, as they started walking towards their own mats.

"Like that time I caught you in my bedchambers when we were teenagers? You had stayed under there all night."

"You stole my sword. I was getting it back."

"Sure. You just couldn't resist my bed."

"How dare you insinuate such a thing, Arthur Pendragon! What about that time I fell out of the tree and was unconscious for hours and you kissed me? Several times, might I add."

"I was trying to wake you up!"

"That's what you tell yourself."

"Ok, fine, we both have our fair share of embarrassments. Don't worry, I won't tease them," relented Arthur.

"Good," responded Morgana with a smirk.

Silent again, they walked the remainder of the way to their sleeping mats, secluded from the rest of the camp and mostly hidden from view by the trees and bushes. The king spotted Merlin on the other side, laughing with Gwaine and Lancelot. He looked at Morgana and decided that neither of them seemed in the mood for food.

"We will get them back safely, Morgana," said Arthur, breaking her reverie.

"I know…" she responded.

"I'm serious. Tomorrow at nightfall we will reach Camelot and we will take back 0ur city," he continued "Odin won't know what's hit him."

"We're not going to kill him, Arthur," said Morgana.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we won't kill him. No more blood will be shed."

"Morgana, he waged a war on us. The penalty is death."

"No, Arthur, the penalty is what you make it."

"If… If Odin surrenders, then I shall let him live. If he resists…"

"I know. We will have no choice."

"You should stay out of the battle, Morgana. Be a healer. Stay safe."

"Oh, Arthur. You know I cannot do that."

"Why not? Nobody expects you to continue putting your life on the line. You've done enough for Camelot already."

"I'm not doing it to prove myself. I'm doing it for my children."

"Morgana…"

"Odin made this war personal when he kidnapped me and tried to take them, Arthur. I may not want him dead, but I want him punished."

"I don't want to lose you again, Morgana. I _can't_ lose you again."

"You are _never_ going to lose me again, Arthur. I promise."

She sealed her promise with a soft, slow kiss on his lips. He pushed her back gently, holding her at arm's length and looked at her, the question in his eyes. She nodded her response and he pressed his lips against hers again. This time it was fast and passionate; a mixture of excitement, love and pure desire. She regained control and pushed him down, landing on top of him. His hands moved quickly, pulling the shirt over her head and discarding it carelessly, baring her to the chill of the night, remedying it with a trail of burning kisses down her breasts.

"I want you, Arthur Pendragon," she whispered, placing a hand on his chest lovingly.

His smile was devious as he flipped her on to her back, eliciting a surprised moan from her. He leant over her and locked lips again, tongues fighting for dominance as they struggled to remove the remainder of their clothes, the motions unpractised for both, although they never broke their contact.

Morgana reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his taut muscles, well-defined from his years and years of training. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent, safe and warm. This wasn't her first time but it sure as hell felt like it. Passion. Love. Desire. All were foreign feelings. His hand caught in her dark tresses as she kissed his collarbone, biting and sucking, determined to make him hers, a possessiveness overcoming her.

"I love you," he whispered.

* * *

><p>The battle raged now, the sky illuminated with fire. Odin's army had wasted no time at all setting up their heavy weaponry; fully intent on battering the gates down. Alana surveyed from the turrets of the central tower, confident that their efforts would be futile, at least for a while. But the dying screams pierced her to the core. She felt bile rise in her throat as she saw a fireball hit one man in the chest, helpless to watch as he flailed and screamed, his skin catching fire.<p>

She'd intended to return to the throne room but something about the battle scene had kept her transfixed. _Come home, mother,_ she thought. _Be safe, Arya_. She prayed to all the gods she knew and had never truly believed in to return her family to her, safe and sound.

"Princess Alana," came the call of an unknown knight.

"Yes, sir," she responded, automatically.

"There is word from King Arthur, my lady," he told her, handing over the rolled piece of parchment.

"Thank you," Alana finished, giving him his leave.

She broke the seal and began to read, a sigh of relief escaping her. Her mother and brother were safe for now. They would ride at dawn and be upon the city by nightfall. Now all that was left was to keep their hold on the citadel until then. Not too difficult…

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><p>Arya had broken her word. She hadn't meant to. When she promised her sister to not join the battle, she'd fully anticipated not to. But circumstances had not wished her to, it seemed. One of the higher ranking knights whose name escaped her, had come rushing to her, battered and bruised, requesting her guidance. The shock of the men asking her, a girl, with help in the strategy had been enough to let her forget her promise.<p>

"My lady?" the insistent voice broke her from her thoughts.

"Right. War. Of course," she muttered to herself, still completely unsure what to say. It was all well and good to be asked about the course of action to take, but it was hell of a difficult to come up with a plan now as the fighting raged on and she could vividly picture death and violent injury.

"My lady?"

"Odin thinks he has us trapped. He is wrong," she said at last.

"I don't understand… The castle is under siege…" responded the knight, questioningly.

"As I am well aware. But Odin does not know about the tunnel that leads into the forest," added Arya, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at their stupidity "Sir Bran, I wish for you to take a group of fifty men through that way. Infiltrate them in any way you can. Do as much damage to their defences as possible."

"Of course, Your Highness," answered Sir Bran "I will select my most trustworthy men."

"See to it that you do. We would not want to put a traitor in the enemies camp now, would we?" retorted Arya, smartly.

"No… No, of course not," he stumbled over his words.

"There is no time like the present," she said, pointedly, smirking slightly when he looked deeply uncomfortable and hurried off.

"And the rest of the army, princess?"

"You shall remain here and fight. Until the king returns with the rest of the army."

Several of the men bowed to her which only served to make her uncomfortable as she nodded and hastily retreated from the barracks, sword swinging at her hip, so far unused. The opposing army was yet to breach the walls, held at bay by the archers atop the turrets.

* * *

><p>Morgana woke up in the early hours of the morning, not quite dawn yet, but still the sun was creeping slowly into the sky. She shivered and immediately noticed why. She was clad in only a thin shirt, half-covered by an equally thin blanket. At least she'd had the presence of mind to pull it back on after last night which was more than could be said for the king. A smile adorning her face and losing years to her age, she snuggled against her bare chest which still managed to emit warmth. His arm cradled her head and she leant into it again.<p>

"Morgana…" he mumbled, his eyes fluttering open at her slight stirring.

"I'm here," she replied, propping herself up on one elbow and turning to stare into his eyes.

"Did that really happen? Or was it just my imagination?" he asked with a grin.

"You tell me, Arthur. Did it feel like your imagination?" teased Morgana.

"No…" he trailed off, catching her upturned lips in a quick kiss "Did that?"

"Come now, Arthur, you certainly left nothing to the imagination."

At this, he blushed slightly, swatting at her in mock annoyance as she giggled at him. It was a long time since he'd heard her so carefree, so… young. Perhaps the wrong day, considering what was about to transpire. But it was endearing to hear. Especially considering he was the person responsible.

"I love you, Morgana Le Fey."

"And I you."

"As much as I would love to remain here with you all day, duty calls."

"Tonight, Arthur. In the royal chambers. In our kingdom."

"Tonight."

With reluctance, the pair rose from the sleeping mat that was never meant for two to share, unsurprised to find the rest of the camp still asleep, aside from the watchmen. The knights required sleep in order to function to the best of their ability whereas Arthur and Morgana were driven by their hearts.

When Morgana released Arthur's hand, she suddenly felt like a part of her was missing. And she knew that she never wanted to leave his side again. Ever.

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><p>AN - This was such a great chapter to write for me. I've looked forward to it for ages. I'm not particularly happy with it but it is definitely one of my favourite moments for me. I hope you all all loved it though even if my writing of it is pretty rubbish ;) I do hope that it was at the right moment in their relationship and not too sudden. Also, I hope you don't feel the timing is out of character in regards to Morgana's worry for her daughters back in Camelot. My reasoning is that Arthur's presence gives her a sort of calming effect :) And please excuse the fact that it had to happen in a campsite around millions of knights. But, hey, it's medieval times. I'm pretty it would be kind of normal... Maybe... Oh well :P

Once again, please leave a review and let me know what you think.


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